Time Crisis: Temporal Fates
by June Ellie
Summary: VSSE agents are heroes of justice, but they are first and foremost human. Like all humans, the darkness whispers to them. In a different world, under different circumstances, they might have been monsters. A tale of time loops, the blurred line between monsters and humans, and the search for what it means to be a true hero.
1. Of Traitors and Emptiness

**In 2015, I dragged my long–suffering beta Elegant Malice to the arcade to play Time Crisis 5: True Mastermind Edition after it was released. When we finished, the only thing I could think of was yelling WHAT THE HECK IS WRONG WITH YOU at Bandai Namco.**

 **Without a proper explanation for Robert's betrayal, I started trying to think of my own explanation for it. Eventually, I hit upon an idea... which took me 3 years of revising and trying to plan before I actually deemed the FIRST chapter ready to post -_- Yes, I am a REALLY slow writer. I already know how it starts and how it ends, but some (ie A LOT) of the middle parts still need to be fiddled with.**

 **A huge thank you to Elegant Malice, who has been patiently acting as a sounding board for my evolving drafts of this monstrosity... for the past 3 years :P (Sorry mate :P)**

 **Due to the way I'm writing this fic, I've included some footnotes at the end of chapters. These footnotes are basically my additional comments about certain stuff, which might need elaboration that I can't fit into the story without it sounding clunkier than it already is. I'll try not to rely on them too much.**

 **For plot purposes, I end up fiddling with the years in the canon timeline somewhat (I'll mention it when it happens). I'll try to make sure my altered timeline of events still makes internal sense though.**

 **Warnings for multiple character deaths (multiple times, in some cases), certain (ie most) characters being rather emotionally screwed up at several points, and plenty of artistic license about a lot of stuff like technology, medicine, and just about everything else.**

 **If I haven't scared you off yet, then strap yourself in. This is going to be a long one.**

* * *

Three months ago, if someone had told Keith that he'd be accused of betraying the VSSE and killing his girlfriend, then forced to go on the run, he would have suggested they visit the infirmary for a check–up.

Three days ago, if someone had told Keith that he'd be better off not knowing the real traitor's identity, he would have punched them in the face.

Yet here he was, swimming away from the wreckage of a cargo plane and his ex–partner's burnt corpse. Had it really only been a few hours since he'd learned of Robert's treachery?

 _Whoever said the truth will set you free was either delusional or a sadist._

"Will you guys hurry up?" An impatient shout interrupted Keith's bitter musings. He looked over to see the annoying rookie – Luke, was it? – already halfway to the distant island.

The other rookie – Marc – rolled his eyes. "Not everyone has super speed, dumbass. Slow down a bit, will you?"

Catherine sighed in exasperation. "Honestly boys, knock it off. Quit bickering and swim so we can get to dry land before we drown."

 _Stars shining brightly against the backdrop of the night sky…_

 _Robert's irritated complaints about being stranded in the middle of the ocean…_

 _Christy grinning with fond exasperation as Keith and Robert began squabbling like children…_

Keith swallowed painfully, banishing the memory with a vicious shake of his head.

 _Neodyne was a long time ago. Even if he wasn't a traitor back then, the Robert I once knew is long gone._

Now that they were no longer in danger, Keith realised that his adrenaline rush had begun to wear off. He was honestly surprised he had managed to keep up with the rookies' super speed through sheer desperation.

Exhaustion crashed over him as he finally reached the shore, hauling himself onto dry land with the last of his strength. Coughing, Keith closed his eyes as the rookies' voices echoed oddly in his ears, fading into an inaudible murmur.

"Are you alright?" He opened his eyes to find Catherine's face hovering above him, looking both weary and sympathetic. Wincing, Keith slowly clambered to his feet. A sudden wave of dizziness caused him to stumble slightly. Catherine caught hold of him as he fell.

"Sorry," he muttered, pulling away from Catherine. Ignoring her concerned look, Keith hurried to catch up with Luke and Marc, who were standing near a path leading into the island's vast jungle.

"So, do we have a plan? Wandering around the jungle aimlessly sounds like an awful idea." Marc crossed his arms, frowning contemplatively.

"Afraid you'll be eaten by wild animals? Or worse, dinosaurs?" Luke smirked, raising an eyebrow.

Marc snorted. "I highly doubt there's much wildlife on an island this small. And dinosaurs? Really? Does this LOOK like Jurassic Park to you?"

 _Oh, for crying out loud…_

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Keith sighed, reminding himself that strangling rookies would give the VSSE a legitimate reason to hunt him down.

 _Not that they needed one before…_

"Heading further inland is our best bet," Catherine interjected. "Aside from contacting the VSSE, we need to find a place to make camp for the night. Your enhancements (1) should be wearing off soon, and you don't want to be running around when the adrenaline crash hits."

Without a word, Keith turned and trudged down the path. After a moment's hesitation, the other agents followed him.

* * *

As the first rays of the morning sun lit up the sky, Catherine looked at Keith. The older agent looked… awful, to put it bluntly. Physical exhaustion aside, there was a horrible blankness to his expression as he made his way through the foliage.

"Keith?" She hesitantly placed her hand on his shoulder.

Keith tensed up but made no move to shake her off. "What?"

"About Robert–" Before Catherine could finish her sentence, Keith pulled away and glared at her.

"Whatever you were about to say, forget it. As far as I'm concerned, Robert Baxter died a long time ago."

As quickly as it had appeared, the cold fury drained out of Keith, leaving the same empty expression from before. Catherine couldn't decide which was worse.

Seeing the look on her face, Keith laughed bitterly. "Look, we don't have time for this. Don't waste your breath trying to play therapist with me, Catherine."

Turning away, he strode forward into the underbrush just as Luke and Marc caught up with Catherine.

Pushing her way through the foliage, Catherine came to an abrupt halt at the sight before her.

"What the hell?" Luke's startled exclamation came from somewhere behind her.

An imposing facility stood before them, looking entirely out of place.

"Why is this here? On an uninhabited island in the middle of the ocean?" Marc looked from the jungle to the building and then back, as though he could glean an answer by doing so.

"Does it matter? It might have communications equipment, and it's better than roughing it in the jungle." Without a backwards glance, Keith walked up to the building and tested the front door. As expected, it was locked. Pulling out his gun, he shot the lock and pushed open the door, disappearing into the building.

Glancing at each other, Luke and Marc followed suit.

For a moment, Catherine considered doing otherwise. Keith had the bearing of someone who had been pushed too far by life and was now on the verge of snapping. However, emotional instability or not, Keith technically still outranked her (especially since he turned out to be innocent). And like it or not, he was right: Immediate survival came first.

As the door swung shut behind her, she found herself hoping there would be time to deal with everything else afterwards.

* * *

The interior of the facility proved to be just as surprising as its exterior, if not more so.

Catherine wasn't sure what she'd been expecting. A warehouse perhaps, or an abandoned military base.

Instead, the agents found themselves in what appeared to be a high–tech research lab. The first few rooms they checked were full of gleaming metal surfaces and sinister–looking equipment.

"It's too clean to be an abandoned lab. Someone was here recently." Catherine's eyes narrowed as she looked around the room.

"Do you think it was… him?" Marc suggested apprehensively.

Silence filled the room as the other agents deliberately avoided looking at Keith.

There was a flash of anger in Keith's expression. "I may be missing an eye, but I'm not blind. Stop treating me like I'm made of glass," he spat, glaring at them with his good eye. "Keep your eyes peeled and let's move. This place might not be as empty as it seems."

Nobody dared to say anything as they followed Keith out of the room.

* * *

After about an hour of searching, the agents had yet to come across other people, hostile or otherwise.

They had, however, found a generator room, which appeared to be supplying power to the entire facility.

More unnervingly, they discovered two operating rooms, an autopsy room (thankfully devoid of corpses) and what appeared to be an empty block of holding cells.

Fortunately, their efforts soon paid off as they found themselves standing in a room filled with computers and communications equipment.

"This is what we want," Keith broke the silence for the first time since his outburst. "Catherine, could you work your magic?"

Wordlessly, Catherine took a seat in front of one of the computers. Silence descended once more, punctuated only by the rhythmic clacking of keys as she began working on the computer.

The monitor glowed blue, blinking intermittently as the video uplink attempted to establish a connection. (2)

A few moments later, a blond man wearing sunglasses appeared onscreen. Even through the video, he exuded a cold and commanding presence. (3) Almost unconsciously, the agents stood straighter as they waited for him to speak.

The VSSE Director inclined his head, acknowledging their presence. "Officer Ricci. Agents O'Neil and Godart." Then he stopped, frowning slightly as he noticed Keith standing behind them. "I trust you have a good explanation for this." The agents looked at each other.

Marc stepped forward and took the lead. "Yes sir. We tracked the briefcase to a facility where Keith was hiding and engaged him in combat. Keith had the briefcase with him and succeeded in cracking its encryption just as he was disarmed. The data named Robert as the real traitor, which was confirmed by his attempt to dispatch us while we were reading it."

The Director's lips thinned. "I see. And what became of former agent Baxter?"

Keith's face clouded over. Turning away, he let out a harsh, barking laugh that was dangerously close to a sob.

Marc nearly winced before he caught himself and continued. "Robert's goal was to unleash a missile filled with a dangerous drug on New York. Cathy – Catherine – crashed the chopper to sabotage the missile launch. We were forced to kill Robert when he wouldn't back down. Unfortunately, Robert blew up the base as he died, along with any evidence within. We escaped to a small island nearby and found another facility with communications equipment."

"Hm." The Director steepled his fingers and appeared to be considering Marc's words. "Very well. We'll pull up your coordinates and send an extraction team. I can already tell you that from your last known location, it will take us at least 18 hours to reach you. I hope you have somewhere to spend the night."

"I believe we passed by a dormitory wing earlier. We should be able to rest there until the chopper arrives," Catherine replied.

"Understood. I'll expect an official report from all of you when you return." The Director seemed to hesitate for a moment. "Agent Martin?"

Keith went very still but didn't turn around.

"I'm sorry about what happened." The Director's stoic expression didn't change, but his usually professional tone sounded almost gentle.

"You're sorry?" Keith echoed disbelievingly. He turned slowly. The revulsion in his remaining eye was unmistakeable. "You can take your apology and—"

Catherine inhaled sharply. "Keith…" she hissed in alarm.

Fortunately, the Director didn't seem offended. "At ease, Officer Ricci. Agent Martin has been through a lot. His reaction is understandable. Until tomorrow, agents."

With that, the screen went black. Catherine glanced at the clock hanging on the wall.

1.30 pm. 18 hours till extraction.

"The chopper won't be here till tomorrow morning. The dormitory wing should be just past this corridor, back the way we came. We should get some rest." She shot Keith a look. The older agent either didn't see or didn't care.

"Let's hope it has some supplies," Luke muttered.

* * *

Aside from half a dozen bunk beds, the dormitory had a small washroom with a shower, a trunk with clean (albeit ill–fitting) clothes and a cupboard containing a few packets of crackers.

"I hope whoever lived here doesn't come back for their stuff," Marc commented. They had taken turns cleaning themselves up in the washroom and were now sitting on the bunks, dividing up the packets of crackers. It wasn't much of a meal, but it was better than nothing.

Keith said nothing. He had been silent since lashing out at the Director. Even after showering and changing into clean clothes, he looked like a walking corpse.

They ate in silence. Keith didn't look at any of them.

When they had finished, he quietly slipped off the bunk and flipped the light switch.

In the darkness of the room, the other agents heard the rustling of sheets, followed by silence.

Wordlessly, they followed suit and climbed into bunks of their own.

It was 2.30 pm, and all was quiet.

* * *

 **This chapter was perhaps a bit slow (One of the reasons it took me a while to finish), but I needed to get the characters in position first to kick off the plot. Next time, on Temporal Fates: Things start to get pretty interesting... and complicated. Next chapter is already written, so I'll post it in a few days once I do my final checks.**

* * *

 **Notes:**

1\. The enhancements thing refers to how Luke and Marc have super speed in TC5. It'll be explained much, much later on, but for now just take it that it's something temporary which allows them to jump around much faster and higher than a normal human should be able to. I know there are some points that Keith starts warping around during his boss fight, but just pretend that doesn't happen and he's just jumping around through skill/training/adrenaline.

2\. I know the way technology works in this fic is probably not at all how it's supposed to work in real life. However, given the use of technology we've seen so far in canon, and other improbable stuff like bosses being able to take a whole bunch of rockets to the face and still not die, just treat it as a suspension of disbelief. If it makes you feel better, imagine it's some high–tech thingy that lets the VSSE do stuff like that.

3\. As far as I can tell, fanon usually has the VSSE Director named Porter Davis. While googling around revealed someone by that name is mentioned in the manual for TC1, the person is mentioned as SPEAKING to the Director. So, whoever he is, he's clearly not the VSSE Director himself. For the sake of convenience, I'm not going to include him.

The Director himself is an enigma. The only time he appears in canon is in the Prologue of TC4, where he briefs Giorgio and Evan about what's going on. I know we sort of get to see what he looks like from the picture accompanying his voice clips in that stage, but I'm just going to ignore it. Because honestly, he looks too much like Richard Miller to me, and I would prefer to have a larger distinction between Richard and the Director.

Appearance–wise, I imagine him looking somewhat like Wesker did in Resident Evil 1. Personality–wise, he's basically a cross between Wesker and Agent Smith from the Matrix if they were heroic characters. So, a bit on the cold side and very professional, but he does care about his agents (Obviously he can't get too attached to all of them given their line of work, but that doesn't mean he doesn't care. He just has to keep a professional front at all times since he's in charge of the whole agency).

Don't worry, you'll (hopefully) get to see more of the Director in future chapters, and you can judge for yourself what he's like.


	2. The Beginning of the End

**A couple of warnings I thought I should add:**

 **1\. Due to the structure of this fic, quite a bit of the worldbuilding occurs later on. So if you're wondering why the VSSE works a certain way, just take it as it is for now. It will be explained, but later on.**

 **2\. I'm doing my best to try and make it smooth, but the earlier parts of the fic are probably going to be a bit clunkier, up until we catch up with canon. My sincerest apologies for that. I promise it does get better later on; I'm just trying my best to give a fairly sensible explanation for canon using my own narrative, and that might make it somewhat clunkier than I'd like.**

* * *

 _Wild Dog blows himself up again, and Keith curses even as he dives out of the way because that's the second time the bastard's pulled that move, and who knows if he'll end up surviving again._

" _Keith!" Robert shouts. Turning, he sees Diaz dragging Christy towards the missile launch platform._

 _Keith swears again and they race after Diaz, trying to land a shot on him without hurting Christy._

 _Abruptly, Diaz pulls Christy upright and suddenly Keith knows what he is about to do. Even as he shoves Christy off the edge of the platform, Keith is already sprinting towards her._

 _She screams. He lunges forward to grab her…_

 _And collapses to the ground as his back explodes in a spasm of pain. Christy's scream echoes up the shaft, ringing in his ears._

 _Someone's laughing._

 _It's not Diaz._

 _Robert stares down at Keith, smirking cruelly as he plucks the gun from Keith's unresponsive hands. Keith tries to find his voice, to ask Robert why, but the darkness is rapidly closing in._

 _With one final gurgle, he goes limp._

* * *

 _The world spins, and suddenly he realises he's nowhere near Neodyne. He's standing outside his room in Headquarters, and there's no sign of injury anywhere on him._

 _With shaking hands, he pushes the door open._

 _Christy is lying motionless on the floor._

 _Keith drops to his knees and shakes her but she's already limp and cold._

 _He screams._

" _Help me! Somebody!"_

 _But even as he hears footsteps thundering towards his room, he knows it's too late._

 _Cradling Christy's body, he closes his eyes and weeps._

* * *

 _When he opens his eyes, his room is gone. He's in a meeting room with the Director and the other Crisis Agents, who are looking at him with varying levels of suspicion and distrust._

" _What's going on?" He barely recognises his own voice, hoarse first from screaming, then from crying._

" _Officer Ryan was investigating a possible traitor within the VSSE." Keith has never heard the Director's voice this cold before. "Her briefcase, along with all the data she collected, is missing. Is there something you want to tell us, Agent Martin?"_

 _He can feel the blood draining from his face and he knows it doesn't make him look any more trustworthy, but he can't stop shaking._

" _You think… you think I'M the traitor?"_

 _Nobody says anything._

" _Christy…" He chokes on her name. Swallows, starts again. "Christy was my girlfriend. I loved her. Do you really think I would kill my OWN GIRLFRIEND?"_

" _The autopsy put her time of death at around the same time you left on assignment. Her briefcase isn't anywhere within the building. She was found in her room, which she shares with you. It may only be circumstantial evidence for now, but it's suspicious enough."_

 _Keith suddenly hates the Director fiercely._

 _For being so clinical about Christy's death._

 _For accusing him of murdering his own girlfriend, even as Keith still can't bear to set foot in the room where she died._

" _For God's sake! You know I wouldn't do this! I would never…"_

 _The other agents shift uncomfortably but remain silent. Richard turns away, avoiding his gaze._

 _Desperately, he turns to his partner, the one person he's always trusted to have his back._

" _Robert… Please… You have to believe me…" His voice is trembling._

 _Robert's face is stony, his eyes cold and unforgiving._

" _If you really are the traitor, I can't believe anything I thought I knew about you. Partner." He practically spits the last word as though it's poisonous._

 _Something inside him snaps._

 _He goes limp as the rest of the Crisis Agents leave the room. He's still sitting at the table, gazing at nothing in particular when a couple of regular agents enter the room. Lets them grab him and drag him off for interrogation._

 _As they pass by the office block, he springs into action._

 _An elbow to the face, a quick grab of his captor's access card and he twists free from the surprised agents' grips._

 _An alarm begins blaring overhead as he bolts._

 _They'll be expecting him to use the regular exit. The one that lets him out into an alley with the VSSE's angel logo graffitied onto the wall. (1)_

 _He heads the other way instead, through the office filled with regular agents who have not yet made the connection between the alarm and his sudden appearance._

 _The agents running after him clue them in._

 _20 steps… 10 steps…_

 _He rounds the corner, and the other exit is right in front of him, the one that connects to a regular office building and lets the VSSE hide in plain sight._

 _He bursts through the door with agents hot on his heels and exits the lobby before the startled receptionist can say anything._

 _The agents don't follow. The VSSE apparently prioritises keeping their cover over capturing a suspected traitor for now._

 _Keith doesn't wait around for reinforcements. He runs into the crowd…_

* * *

… _And emerges in a jungle. For a moment, he's disoriented. Isn't he supposed to be somewhere else?_

 _Then he remembers, and the dizziness fades._

 _He's following a lead he discovered about the real traitor's contacts in hopes of tracking down Christy's briefcase. The VSSE clearly hasn't managed to locate it yet, because they're still hunting him._

 _He suspects leaving it in the thief's hands would be disastrous. The real traitor would find a way to alter the info in the briefcase or destroy it altogether, and he would never be able to clear his name._

 _There's a building in the clearing up ahead. That has to be the place he's looking for._

 _He steps inside cautiously, keeping an eye out for guards._

 _Nobody's around._

 _A computer terminal in the centre of the room catches his attention._

 _He takes two more steps, and the room explodes in a wave of searing fire._

 _He bites back a scream, cursing himself thrice over as he dives for the door._

 _Staggering out of the burning building, he drags himself away from the clearing, outside the blast radius and collapses._

 _When he wakes, he realises he can no longer see out of his left eye or use his left arm._

 _Hysterical laughter bubbles up in his throat._

* * *

 _When he regains his senses, he finds himself in a warehouse, gunshots echoing in the distance. A quick glance at himself, and he remembers what's happening._

 _It's been three months since Christy's death. His missing left eye is covered by an eyepatch, left arm replaced by a prosthetic arm. The handgun in his holster is now accompanied by the katana strapped to his back._

 _He tries to remember who he used to be, the daredevil adrenaline junkie who loved his job and would willingly risk his life to save the world._

 _It feels like a dream._

 _The only thing left for him now is vengeance. He needs to find Christy's killer and avenge her death, because she cannot have died in vain. After that, nothing else seems to really matter._

 _He already knows he's not returning to the VSSE. He'd rather die avenging Christy than work alongside people who accused him of treason and murder._

 _Justice doesn't exist anyway, so why bother fighting for it?_

 _Still, Keith hates that he's forced to hide in Wild Dog's base after wiping out his mercenaries, but he has no choice. The VSSE team is still fighting Wild Dog's men, and with any luck he'll have cracked the briefcase before they finally catch up to him._

 _The sound of gunfire grows louder._

 _Robert and the rookies must be getting close._

 _The door bursts open._

 _The rookies rush in, eyes full of determination and righteous indignation. It hurts to look at them, remembering how he and Robert had been like that once._

 _The revulsion in their eyes as they glare at him stings, but he bears no grudge against them._

 _Admittedly, it's a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that everything they've been told about him paints him as a backstabbing monster._

 _It's far worse knowing that the other Crisis Agents have known him for years and chose to believe that he betrayed them anyway._

 _Robert enters, and Keith's heart nearly stops._

 _He tries to read Robert, to see past his cold gaze._

 _(When did Robert start wearing sunglasses?)_

 _Robert barely spares him a glance before demanding the briefcase. Not even a flicker of shock at Keith's appearance._

… _This is not Robert._

 _The Robert he remembers is eternally serious yet fiercely protective._

 _This is a heartless stranger wearing the face of his partner — ally — friend._

 _Robert lunges at him, and he stops thinking._

 _Katana clashes with knives as the rookies start firing at him, trying to disarm him._

 _He puts up a good fight, but it's three against one and he knew from the start he wasn't going to win this one._

 _The briefcase flies out of his grip, clattering to the ground as he collapses._

 _It beeps._

 _How ironic, that the encryption is finally cracked now that he's been caught._

 _It's not over yet._

 _He grabs for the briefcase, ignoring the rookies' guns pointed at him. Opens it, shows it to them._ _The rookies lean in to look at the data as the audit's result appears onscreen._

 _Keith swallows, steels himself to learn the truth._

 _The rookies' shocked reactions cause him to glance up at them instead._

 _Eyes widening, he fires off two shots._

 _The bullets whizz past their startled faces, sending the knives that are flying towards them clattering harmlessly to the ground._

 _Robert stands at the entrance to the room, arms folded, looking entirely unfazed. No remorse whatsoever for attempting to kill his subordinates._

 _Keith feels like he's been sucker punched._

 _Robert fought alongside him when they rescued Christy._

 _Robert killed Christy._

 _Robert was his partner, the one person he could always trust._

 _Robert framed him for treason and the murder of his own girlfriend._

 _When did Robert switch sides? Was any of it real, or had he always intended to destroy the VSSE from within?_

 _The rookies are still staring in shocked disbelief as Robert makes a snide comment about their failure to die._

" _Robert, YOU'RE the traitor!" His voice sounds unhinged even to his own ears, but he couldn't care less as he glares at his former partner._

 _Before any of them can react, Robert hurls a smoke bomb at them and vanishes._

" _ROBERT!"_

 _The smoke engulfs them as the last fragment of Keith's heart shatters._

* * *

 _The smoke clears, and they're standing in a cargo plane. Catherine's defiant yell still echoes in the distance as the flaming helicopter and the missile plummet towards the ocean._

 _Robert is climbing to his feet with a hateful glare and why won't he just STAY DOWN, he knows there's no way out for him, and even after everything Keith doesn't want to have to be the one to kill him._

 _The bullets start flying._

 _Robert's spewing bitter vitriol and claiming they'll learn the truth soon, but Keith doesn't know what truth Robert means and he wants to scream WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?_

 _He fires, and the bullet strikes Robert squarely in the shoulder._

 _Robert stumbles backwards, falling off the platform and firing off a spray of bullets as he yells in pain._

 _The twisted, psychotic smirk on his face sears itself into Keith's mind as an explosion consumes the plane._

 _Overpowering, all–consuming pain erupts, fire roaring all around him everywhere he looks._

 _A familiar figure emerges from the flames._

" _Christy?"_

 _She approaches him and he begins scrambling backwards in wild panic, shrinking away from the hatred burning in her eyes._

" _Keith…" she hisses, reaching for him with razor–sharp nails._

 _Black strangulation marks begin to form on her pale skin._

" _Why didn't you save me?" She screams._

 _He flinches away from her accusatory glare, gathering tears burning his eyes. "Christy… I'm so sorry…"_

" _Sorry isn't good enough." Another voice echoes from behind him._

 _Turning, his eyes widen. "Agent Miller?"_

 _Richard's face twists with an expression of contempt Keith had never thought him capable of._

" _I'm disappointed in you, Agent Martin. I thought you had potential, but you failed in the worst way possible," he sneers._

" _I… I didn't mean… I wasn't…" Keith stammers, feeling a tremor wrack his body._

 _He realises the other Crisis Agents have appeared and encircled him, trapping him._

" _Worthless…"_

" _Pathetic…"_

" _Weakling…"_

" _Can't save anyone…"_

 _He wants to flee, to get away from the hateful hostility radiating from them, but he's frozen in place, each of his former colleagues' taunts striking him like a dagger to the heart._

" _Keith…"_

 _A final figure emerges, and Keith lets out an involuntary whimper._

 _Robert's eyes are wide open, face horribly burned. The same twisted grin from earlier is still plastered to his face._

 _Keith flinches, tries to look away, but he's forced to watch as Robert's flesh burns away, stripping down to blood and bones._

 _Robert begins to laugh, a horrible mocking sound that echoes throughout the room, growing louder and louder as he reaches out with a skeletal hand and grabs Keith by the throat._

 _Keith's neck erupts in flames and he wants to scream at the agonising pain but he can't breathe and there are black spots swimming before his eyes as Robert's maniacal laughter rings in his ears…_

"KEITH!"

"Come on, snap out of it!"

There are hands holding him down and he panics, lashing out and eliciting a startled yell from his assailant. Twisting sharply, he breaks free from his captors and lands hard on the ground. He reaches for his katana but the sheath is missing, so he kicks out. There's a satisfying crunch as he collides with something and a pained shout echoes from somewhere above him…

"Keith, stop! Calm down, you're alright!"

His blurry vision refuses to focus properly, but there's someone kneeling next to him, uttering soothing platitudes.

"Christy?" he gasps.

The person inhales sharply. "Keith…" She sounds dismayed. "It's Catherine, remember? Christy is…"

His vision clears, and sure enough the young intelligence officer is the one kneeling beside him, looking both worried and pitying. The rookies are standing behind her with wary expressions, as though they're expecting Keith to attack them again.

He stares at them for a moment, and then everything comes rushing back.

The wariness in the rookies' expressions gives way to concern, and he abruptly notices that his face is wet and his throat feels raw.

Hot shame floods through him as he realises how thoroughly he's embarrassed himself in front of them.

 _Screaming and crying like some kid afraid of monsters under the bed? You really are pathetic._

"Keith…" Catherine is looking at him with gentle pity.

It's too much for him to bear.

"Excuse me," he mutters, jumping to his feet and making a beeline for the door as he futilely tries to pretend he's not fleeing like the coward he is.

* * *

As the door to the dormitory swung shut, Catherine glanced at the clock. It was just past 10 pm.

"Is he going to be alright?" Marc spoke up, looking worriedly at the door Keith had just fled through.

Catherine tiredly scrubbed a hand across her face. Being abruptly awoken by someone screaming bloody murder wasn't exactly pleasant.

"Give him some space to compose himself," she replied. "How are you guys feeling?"

"Pretty well–rested, aside from the fact that my leg freaking hurts. He has a hell of a kick." Despite Luke's flippant comment, there was an undertone of concern in his voice as well.

The agents sat in awkward silence for a few minutes before Luke spoke up.

"Alright, spill. What's the deal with you and Keith? You two seem to have known each other before this."

Catherine sighed. "I used to provide air support for Keith on his missions before he was put on suspension three years ago… presumably due to that mission Robert sabotaged. (2) Back then, I didn't know anything about the circumstances behind his suspension. All I knew was that one day, Keith was no longer allowed to operate autonomously, and he was mostly sent on reconnaissance assignments from then on. But before that, I worked with him fairly often."

"His girlfriend — Christy — actually mentored me when I first joined the VSSE. Christy was kind of a legend amongst the intelligence officers for her role in the Neodyne incident. We weren't particularly close, but she was nice. We didn't see much of each other after I passed my training though. Her specialty was investigations and undercover work, while I was assigned to provide air support for senior agents on some of their assignments. Robert was already semi–retired from field work by then, but I worked on quite a few assignments where he was in command behind the scenes."

"Wait, you knew Christy? Why didn't you say anything earlier?" Marc looked at her in disbelief.

"I didn't realise SHE was the murdered auditor," Catherine retorted. "Like I said, Christy specialised in undercover work. It wasn't entirely uncommon for her to be not seen around HQ for long periods. I thought she was away on assignment, not… dead."

"Besides, Robert referred to the auditor as "he", remember? (3) For SOME reason, he didn't see fit to mention that the auditor was actually female, and someone he knew well. I wonder why," she added sarcastically.

Marc frowned but said nothing.

"There's one thing I still don't get: If the internal auditor was supposed to be watching Keith, why would the VSSE put Christy in charge of the investigation? Wouldn't that be a conflict of interest?" Luke asked.

Catherine let out a bitter laugh. "You seem to be forgetting something important: **Robert** is the one who claimed the murdered auditor had been watching Keith. Given his true allegiances, I'd say that was probably a bunch of bullshit, just like the supposed rumours about Keith selling intel."

Silence descended once more as the agents sat on the edge of their bunks, each lost in their own thoughts.

"He's been gone long enough." Marc finally broke the silence. "Should we go check on him?"

"Might as well. I doubt anyone's getting anymore sleep tonight anyway." Catherine hopped off her bunk and headed for the door.

"Let's hope he didn't get lost," Luke grumbled. "This place is like a maze."

* * *

When Keith's mortification finally subsided enough for him to observe his surroundings, he quickly realised he had no idea where he was or how to get back to the dormitory.

 _Bloody brilliant. Can you be any more useless?_

Not wanting to embarrass himself further by having to wait for the other agents to come looking for him, Keith decided to retrace his steps as best as he could remember, hoping that he was going the right way.

After about 15 minutes of wandering through identical–looking hallways, he found himself in front of a large set of doors that he didn't recognise.

 _Great. Definitely not this way._

Fed up with being lost, Keith decided to enter the room and check it out, hoping he would find a map or floor plan of some sort.

Instead, he found himself standing in a room which was mostly empty, aside from a computer terminal with a few chairs near it, a huge arch in the wall, and a control panel next to the arch.

 _Wait a minute… An arch?_

Keith took another look at the arch. On closer inspection, it looked more like a giant circle built into the wall, almost like a gate… or a portal.

 _Don't be ridiculous. This is real life, not science–fiction._

Whatever the arch was, it seemed to be inactive, and Keith decided he didn't want to risk seeing what it did.

Instead, he turned his attention to the computer terminal.

The screen was black, of course.

Keith began idly tapping at the keyboard to see if he could turn it on. Abruptly, it lit up, showing a desktop filled with files.

He glanced through the list of files, then did a double take.

One file in particular stood out to him: A folder titled Agent's Reports.

 _Surely not…_

His heart beating faster, Keith clicked on the folder.

A dialogue box popped up.

 **Authorised User: Robert Baxter**

 **Password Required**

… _What. The. Hell._

Any thoughts of finding his way back to the dormitory vanished in an instant.

His first thought was to try inputting a password, but recent events had shown him that he apparently didn't know Robert at all, so he couldn't even begin to guess what the password might be. And if the folder decided to lock up or delete itself because he input a wrong password…

Frustrated, he slammed his fist into the table.

"Keith?" A quiet voice startled him.

Turning, he saw Catherine and the rookies standing at the entrance to the room. Catherine looked uncharacteristically unsure of herself. "Listen, about earlier…"

Not wanting to recall his lapse of control, Keith shut down that line of conversation. "Never mind that. I need your help with this."

Catherine looked as though she wanted to press further, but she said nothing, instead walking over to join Keith.

Her eyes widened.

"What… Keith, what is this?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out. Can you get into it?" He asked brusquely.

She hesitated. "I'll do my best, but… I can't make any promises."

Keith and the rookies watched in tense silence for several minutes as Catherine began tapping away at the keyboard, muttering to herself.

Finally, she stopped typing as the dialogue box vanished and the folder opened.

The folder contained a large number of files, all with different dates.

Wordlessly, Catherine clicked on the first file, dated October 2009.

Almost unconsciously, Keith leaned in closer, eyes fixed on the screen.

A document loaded up.

 _To shape the future, we must learn from the past. This report shall attempt to trace the origins of this entire tragedy, in hopes of preventing it from repeating itself. As far as I can tell, the entire series of events began with the Terror Bite incident, which Agents Giorgio Bruno and Evan Bernard were assigned to handle…_

There was much more than that, but Keith was too shocked to continue reading.

"What the hell IS this?" In a dim corner of his mind, he realised that his voice was tinged with an edge of hysteria.

"I don't get it," Luke spoke up. "What's the big deal?"

Catherine looked dumbfounded as well, but tried to explain. "This report is dated 2009… but it references events that didn't happen until 2013." (4)

There was a stunned silence.

"Are… are you sure?" Marc asked, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Of course we're sure," Keith snapped, looking more than a bit unhinged. "Agent Bernard wasn't even IN the VSSE yet in 2009."

Slowly, as though by unspoken agreement, all four agents pulled over the nearby chairs, seating themselves around the computer terminal with Keith in the centre.

 _As far as I can tell, the entire series of events began with the Terror Bite incident, which Agents Giorgio Bruno and Evan Bernard were assigned to handle. This turned out to be the beginning of the end for the VSSE…_

* * *

 **You have no idea how much fun I had writing the first half of this chapter :P**

 **Fun fact: When I first played TC4 and fell in love with this awesome series, my initial guess was that it was about time travel, because of the name. I was quickly proven wrong of course, but I've always been fond of time travel stories, and this was the one idea my mind latched onto when trying to figure out why Robert would turn on the VSSE.**

 **Say goodbye to Luke and Marc; this is the last time we'll be seeing them for a while. And aside from a minor appearance or two at some points in the fic, they won't be involved in what's going on. Unlike the previous games, where we really got to connect with the player characters, TC5 always struck me as being more of Keith and Robert's story than being about Luke and Marc. The player characters just happen to get dragged into events that don't really involve them, simply because they're assigned to the briefcase retrieval mission.**

* * *

 **Notes:**

1\. The VSSE angel logo can be seen in the results screens of Time Crisis 1 Special Mission Mode and Time Crisis: Project Titan, if you want to know what it looks like. I figured it would look like innocuous graffiti to anyone not familiar with it, while serving as a marker indicating the entrance to Headquarters for agents going in and out of the building.

2\. I know the whole "last mission 3 years ago" thing could imply that Keith vanished 3 years before TC5. However, given that Christy was only murdered 3 months before the start of the game, and she presumably wouldn't have taken 3 years to investigate a traitor, I'm going to disregard that theory. My interpretation is that Keith was demoted after that failed mission 3 years ago and was no longer allowed to lead missions.

3\. In the original version of TC5, Robert refers to the murdered auditor as "he". Once True Mastermind was released, that line was changed and Robert uses "she" to refer to the auditor, but I decided to keep it as the original. I figured it wouldn't be entirely out of character for Robert to lie about that, given everything else he's covering up.

4\. I know it's usually assumed that TC4 takes place in 2006, the same year the game was released. However, I don't THINK there's actually anything in canon or the supplementary material for TC4 that explicitly states 2006 as the in–game year. For plot reasons, I need TC4 to take place not too long before TC5 (9 years apart would definitely be too long), so I'm shifting it to 2013.

Robert's report was originally supposed to be dated 2006 as an in–joke to this, but I figured that would stretch out the timeline too much.

To keep their canon ages accurate, I'm also shifting Giorgio and Evan's birth years by 7 years. Their ages in this fic are still correct, but since TC4 was shifted forwards by 7 years they're also born 7 years later. In other words, Giorgio is born in 1984 while Evan is born in 1988. With TC4 taking place in 2013, Giorgio is still 29 during TC4 while Evan is 25.

The only thing this really changes is the age difference between them and the other agents, which works out nicely as well. Based on their original birth years, Giorgio would have been at most a year or two younger than Alan and Wesley, which would make them more or less equals. I wanted Alan and Wesley to have a sort of older sibling dynamic with Giorgio and Evan, and widening the age gap by 7 years helps to establish this.


	3. Tragedy Strikes

**Given how awful I am at languages, I figured it would be better to not use foreign languages than to misuse them. So Giorgio and Evan aren't going to be using any Italian or French in this fic :P Sorry guys :P**

* * *

 **4.45 am**

 **9 August 2013**

 **VSSE Briefing Room**

Evan entered the briefing room carrying two cups of coffee (one coffee with milk and sugar, and a black coffee with no sugar). Almost immediately, he spotted a familiar figure slumped across the table. Giorgio's eyes were closed, head resting on his folded arms.

Placing the black coffee in front of his napping partner, Evan shook Giorgio firmly by the shoulder. "Gi. Wake up."

"Ngh…"

Slowly, Giorgio stirred, tired eyes blinking open to squint up at Evan.

"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty. We've got work to do." Evan nudged the black coffee towards his groggy partner. Giorgio groaned but reluctantly sat up, rubbing his eyes as he reached for the cup.

Evan took a sip of his own coffee to hide his grin. He would never get tired of seeing his aloof partner's more vulnerable side. Giorgio was undoubtedly a consummate professional out in the field, but off duty he turned into a grumpy cat and would gladly spend all day in bed if left to his own devices.

The Director walked in at that moment, and Evan instinctively straightened up. Despite the early hour, the Director looked as composed and immaculate as ever. There were rumours that he was a vampire or some sort of immortal creature who didn't need to eat or sleep. Rationally, Evan knew that wasn't possible; he probably lived somewhere near his personal office, possibly in an adjoining room beyond that door which was always off–limits. But he seemed to always be on duty, and even the Crisis agents had yet to catch a glimpse of him not working.

Giorgio likewise sat up straighter upon noticing the Director, though Evan could see lingering traces of sleepiness in his eyes.

"My apologies for calling you in at this hour, gentlemen. Unfortunately, an urgent situation has emerged." The Director took a seat opposite them.

"A top–secret weapon has fallen into the hands of terrorists in the United States. As soon as the EU got wind of the situation, they requested we send agents to investigate. (1) You'll be working with a contact from the US military who's being assigned to investigate as well."

He paused and fixed the agents with a look. "The US is… rather particular about their classified projects. They're probably not going to be too pleased about the VSSE's involvement. Try not to step on their toes too much… but don't let them stop you from doing your job." (2)

* * *

As soon as they boarded the plane, Giorgio sank into his seat, slumping against the window.

Evan gave him a look of fond exasperation. "You might as well get some rest. I'll wake you when we get there."

"Thank you." Giorgio gave him a small, tired smile as his eyes drifted shut.

Soon, the plane was silent, aside from the soft sound of Giorgio's steady, deep breathing.

 _I'll never understand how he can fall asleep so quickly, no matter where he is._

With an amused shake of the head, Evan turned away from his sleeping partner, leaving him to his beloved slumber.

* * *

 **1.12 pm**

 **California International Airport**

As the plane began its descent towards the airport, Evan glanced at Giorgio. He hadn't moved an inch since the plane took off, still slumped bonelessly against the window.

"Gi." Evan touched his partner lightly on the arm.

Giorgio's hand shot out and grabbed Evan as his eyes flew open.

Gone was the sleepy–eyed man who spent all his time napping and complaining about being woken. Giorgio's mask of cold professionalism was firmly in place as he met Evan's eyes with a steely glare.

As soon as he recognised Evan, the fight drained out of Giorgio and he released his partner. "My apologies."

"We're here," Evan replied, brushing off Giorgio's apology.

Given the circumstances, the VSSE had arranged for them to bypass customs quickly and quietly. As soon as they were safely away from the prying eyes of the general public, Giorgio touched the earpiece he was wearing. "Sir, we've arrived in California."

"Understood, Agent Bruno. Your contact, Captain Rush of the Joint Intelligence Division, is on his way to the Financial District in California. Meet up with him at once." (3)

"Yes sir, right away."

"Good. I'll be expecting you to report in this evening. Until then, agents." With that, the connection cut out.

Giorgio and Evan looked at each other for a moment and nodded.

The mission had begun.

* * *

 **2.57 pm**

 **California Financial District**

Giorgio leaned against a streetlamp, nonchalantly sipping a cup of coffee. To the untrained eye, he seemed to be nothing more than a regular passer–by, indistinguishable from the rest of the crowd.

In reality, Giorgio was watching the junction ahead of him, his sharp eyes taking in everything while he appeared to be looking at nothing in particular.

He and Evan had met up with Captain Rush a little over half an hour ago, and Rush had briefed them on what he had learned so far. Rush had tracked down a hideout belonging to the terrorist organisation WOLF. Apparently, the stolen weapon was actually a biological weapon; an insect–like organism, codenamed Terror Bite.

However, it appeared that another unknown group besides the terrorists was involved. A unit of the unknown group had also infiltrated WOLF's hideout and wiped out a large contingent of the terrorists before Rush confronted them. Upon subduing the unknown group's leader, Rush had retrieved a handset the man was carrying. First Lieutenant Elizabeth Conway, who was serving as his mission control, managed to pinpoint the general area of the weapon trade–off site from the handset's data.

Which was why Giorgio was currently positioned near one junction of the trade–off site, waiting for the parties involved to show up. Rush had already contacted his superiors to divert traffic away from the area in hopes of minimising civilian casualties. He and Evan were also watching the trade site from their own positions. Hopefully, they would be able to intercept the trade without the situation turning too chaotic. (4)

Giorgio's eyes narrowed as he spotted a man wearing a hood and dressed in black, walking towards an armoured truck.

 _Bingo._

Giorgio quietly touched his earpiece. "This is Agent Bruno. I have eyes on a potential hostile approaching a silver truck near my position. Move in."

"Copy that," Rush replied, as Evan similarly acknowledged Giorgio's words.

Just then, the man looked up and locked eyes with Giorgio.

 _Shit!_

Giorgio immediately drew his handgun as the man scrambled into the truck. Cursing under his breath, he fired off a few shots as the truck sped off. Unfortunately, the truck was rapidly gaining speed, and the few shots which connected ended up bouncing harmlessly off its exterior.

"I'm out of range. One of you is going to have to take care of it."

"On it." A loud gunshot split the air, and the truck suddenly veered and spun sideways, its tire blown out.

"Confirmed hit on the truck. Move to secure it," Rush ordered.

As Giorgio rushed towards the crashed truck, he spotted Evan approaching it as well from another direction. Suddenly, a fireball exploded outwards from it and he reeled backwards instinctively to dodge the blast.

The man in black stood amongst the wreckage, wielding an anti–tank rifle as reinforcements emerged from the street behind him.

Giorgio ducked behind cover, catching sight of Evan and Rush doing the same on the other side of the street.

"Let's do this."

* * *

The firefight that followed was short but intense. The enemy forces seemed unusually well–trained, and they were armed with much more sophisticated equipment than Rush and the agents had expected.

At one point, the terrorists had released Terror Bites to attack the agents. True to their appearance, the Terror Bites had swarmed the agents like a horde of insects, forcing them to deal with the onslaught while the terrorists continued to fire at them.

Rush and the agents finally managed to thin the enemy forces and subdue the enemy leader… at which point they discovered that the supposed "terrorists" were members of the US military. Rush had been baffled and furious, outraged that anyone could betray their oath of loyalty to the country in such a manner.

After overseeing the clean–up (no civilian casualties, thankfully, but plenty of angry civilians complaining about damage to their cars and other property), Rush had left to report to his superiors, promising to contact the agents as soon as he discovered anything new. That left Giorgio and Evan to make their way to a nearby motel, where they could rest and report in to the Director.

* * *

 **4.06 pm**

 **Motel Room**

"…And that's the situation so far," Giorgio finished summarising what had happened so far.

"I see. Do you have an idea when Captain Rush will next contact you?"

"I'm afraid not, Sir," Giorgio replied apologetically.

"Hm. Very well then. Is there anything else?" The Director asked.

"Sir, would it be possible to send an additional Crisis Agent for backup?" Giorgio asked hesitantly. "The terrorists appear to be well–trained members of the US military with superior firepower, so we might be in over our heads on this one."

There was a moment of silence as the Director contemplated Giorgio's words.

"…I see where you're coming from, Agent Bruno," he finally replied. "Unfortunately, it would take too long to call in another Crisis Agent and send them to meet up with you. I'm afraid you'll have to handle this one on your own. Can I count on the two of you?"

"…Yes sir," Giorgio replied, steely determination colouring his voice.

"Good luck, agents." Without further ado, the line went dead.

Dropping his phone on the bedside table, Giorgio glanced at Evan. "Looks like we're on our own here."

Evan snorted. "Oh please. How hard could it possibly be?"

Giorgio gave him a pointed look. "Don't get cocky," he warned Evan. "This might be tougher than what we've been up against in previous assignments."

"Whatever you say. Now what?" Evan rolled his eyes dismissively.

"We should get something to eat, then get some rest while we can," Giorgio suggested. "You're going to need your strength for whenever Rush gets back to us."

* * *

 **3 am**

 **10 August 2013**

 **Motel Room**

A firm knocking sound instantly woke Giorgio from his sleep. Grabbing his phone, he bit back a curse as he noticed the time. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Evan sitting up in his own bed as well. Cautiously, he retrieved his handgun from its position on the bedside table and opened the door.

Captain Rush was standing outside, not looking at all tired despite the early hour.

"Sorry for the wake–up call," he apologised. "We've uncovered some new information, and we need to move quickly. The chopper's waiting outside."

"Understood. We'll be there in 5 minutes."

Rush nodded and left as Giorgio shut the door, wincing against the bright light of the hallway.

 _I have a feeling this is going to be a long day…_

* * *

 **3.36 pm**

 **Silo Bottom Level, Colorado Air Force Base**

Giorgio ducked behind cover as a swarm of Terror Bites flew past, flinching as one of them barely missed him.

Once they had boarded the chopper, Captain Rush had filled them in about what was happening. Apparently, the terrorists were a disgruntled unit from the US military known as the Hamelin Battalion, and they were planning to use the Terror Bites to get revenge for their unit's existence being covered up. Before Rush could explain further, the chopper had abruptly come under attack, and they had been forced to bail out of the chopper and go the rest of the way on foot.

One thing had led to another, and now they were somehow battling their way through an air force base in Colorado to stop the Battalion's leader Gregory Barrows from launching UCAVs at every major city in the US.

A loud beeping noise caught his attention, and Giorgio looked up just in time to see Barrows blowing up the stairs to the missile control panel where he was standing.

 _Son of a bitch…_

Without a moment's hesitation, Rush ordered the National Guard troops to begin forming a human pyramid, allowing Giorgio and Evan to climb towards the missile platform. Evan immediately began scrambling up the human pyramid, leaving Giorgio to follow him.

Giorgio gritted his teeth, trying to maintain his grip and fire at Barrows while dodging his gunfire. Mentally apologising to the troops forming the pyramid, he inched his way upwards.

 _Almost there…_

At that instant, everything went wrong.

Barrows fired off a shot that clipped Evan right in the arm, just as the latter had raised his handgun to fire back.

Evan let out a pained cry as the force of the shot ripped his hand free from its grip on the pyramid.

"EVAN!"

As his partner fell past, Giorgio lunged in his direction as much as he could…

And barely missed, his fingers brushing past Evan's as the younger agent plummeted downwards.

There was a sickening crack.

"NO!" Giorgio screamed, preparing to dive down after Evan and desperately praying for his partner to hang on.

"The missiles have been launched!" First Lieutenant Conway's frantic voice crackled through Giorgio's earpiece.

 _NO! Damn it, not now!_

With a sick feeling in his stomach, Giorgio forced himself to turn away from Evan's bloodied form far below.

 _I'm so sorry, Evan…_

One last shot, and Gregory Barrows collapsed.

With a burst of energy, Rush launched Giorgio up the last bit of distance onto the platform, and Giorgio slammed his fist onto the button, detonating the missiles prematurely and preventing them from striking their targets.

Immediately, he began scrambling down the human pyramid as fast as he could, heart racing wildly as the sick feeling intensified tenfold.

 _Oh God… Evan…!_

"Evan!" Giorgio reached for his partner with shaking hands, trying and failing to swallow the terror consuming him.

Evan's legs were twisted unnaturally, and blood was already beginning to pool beneath his body. He coughed weakly, eyes fluttering open.

"Did… get him?" He rasped.

"Yes, we did. Just hang on," Giorgio pleaded. "You're… you're going to be alright."

"…Good." His eyes slid shut, and his breathing slowed to a stop.

"Evan… No…" Giorgio wept, cradling his partner's broken body.

Rush and his men were looking at Giorgio with sorrowful sympathy, but Giorgio didn't pay any heed to his surroundings, lost in grief and devastation.

It could have been hours or even years later when Giorgio finally forced himself to move. Mechanically, he picked up Evan's body, gently carrying it outside, right past Elizabeth Conway, her murmured words of sympathy falling on deaf ears. Slowly, he walked one step at a time until he reached the VSSE chopper sent by HQ. Climbing onboard, he forced himself to release his grip on Evan's body, gently setting it down.

He wasn't able to save Evan. The least he could do was to make sure his partner was brought back home where he belonged.

* * *

 **14 August 2013**

 **VSSE Residential Wing**

"NO! EVAN!"

Alan's eyes flew open at the bloodcurdling scream. A quick glance at the clock told him it was 2.30 am.

"STOP! PLEASE!"

Almost immediately, he pieced together what was happening.

It felt like the whole VSSE was in shock and grieving. Evan's cheerful nature had earned him many friends despite his youth, and many of the other agents were devastated by the tragedy, Alan included.

Of course, as Evan's partner, Giorgio had taken it the hardest. The Director had expressed his condolences and placed Giorgio on an indefinite leave of absence so that Giorgio could try to cope with his grief.

Aside from robotically making his report to the Director, Giorgio hadn't spoken a word since returning to the VSSE with Evan's body. He had been in a perpetual daze, wandering the halls of HQ like a ghost, barely eating or sleeping.

Evan's funeral and burial had been yesterday. Giorgio hadn't cried, but in his dazed state he hadn't seemed to register what was happening either.

It seemed his mind could no longer suppress what had happened.

Alan quickly slipped out of bed and made for Giorgio's apartment next door. Punching in the override code, he bypassed the electronic lock on Giorgio's door and quietly entered the room.

"Giorgio?" He approached the younger agent cautiously.

Giorgio was curled into a ball, tangled up in his sheets as he wept violently.

"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…" His face was already wet with tears, yet still more flowed down his cheeks.

Alan hesitated. Common sense told him that touching Giorgio would be a terrible idea, and it would be safer to wake him by throwing something soft at him, like a cushion.

Compassion told him that would be an awful way to try to wake someone who was grieving and terrified out of his mind.

Steeling himself, he reached over to shake Giorgio.

As soon as Alan's hand brushed Giorgio's shoulder, the younger agent screamed and thrashed, catching Alan in the jaw with a flying fist before he could dodge.

Letting out an involuntary hiss of pain, Alan shook Giorgio. "Giorgio, wake up!"

After a few minutes, Giorgio's eyes flew open, terror clearly written all over his face.

"Hey, you're alright. You're safe," Alan said softly, trying not to spook him further.

Giorgio's eyes finally landed on Alan. "A–Alan?" He stammered, voice shaky and tinged with hysteria.

Alan nodded, releasing his grip on Giorgio's shoulder.

The terror in Giorgio's eyes slowly subsided, replaced by mortification as he noticed the rapidly forming bruise on Alan's face.

"Oh God… I'm so sorry! I didn't mean…"

"Hey, it's alright," Alan interrupted Giorgio's frantic apologies. "Trust me, I've had far worse."

Giorgio swallowed, looking away.

Slowly, Alan took a seat next to Giorgio on the bed.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"NO!" Giorgio let out a panicked cry, before regaining some semblance of control over himself. "No, I… Please, just go. I can't…"

Alan hesitated for a moment, torn between respecting Giorgio's wishes and wanting to help Giorgio anyway.

Looking at Giorgio's trembling form, he decided to at least let Giorgio cling to the shattered remnants of his dignity. Leaning over, he gently wrapped his arms around Giorgio. The younger agent tensed up, but didn't push Alan away.

"Giorgio… Please, don't think you have to deal with this alone. We're all worried about you."

Giorgio didn't say anything, but his trembling subsided somewhat.

Slowly, Alan released the younger agent, slipping off the bed and quietly leaving the room.

As he crawled back into his own bed, his last thought was that he should speak to the Director in the morning and suggest giving Giorgio proper psychiatric help, because he was clearly not coping at all.

* * *

The next morning, Giorgio was nowhere to be found in Headquarters. His ID card and his gun were found in his room, sitting neatly on top of a note which simply read: "I'm sorry."

The VSSE began searching for Giorgio, but he seemed to have vanished without a trace. After a few weeks with no leads, his disappearance was finally declared a cold case, and the VSSE stopped searching.

In the weeks to come, Alan found himself haunted by the agonising grief reflected in Giorgio's eyes that night, wishing he had tried harder to help Giorgio. The searing guilt of knowing that he could have done something to stop Giorgio from leaving became a constant whisper at the back of his mind, blaming him for his inaction.

* * *

 **The next chapter will either be up this weekend or sometime next week, depending on whether writer's block decides to slow me down :P And trust me, things are only going to get a lot worse for the VSSE agents from here :P**

* * *

 **Notes:**

1\. I'm also drawing from the Time Crisis 4 PS3 port's Full Story Mode for details about the incident. You don't really need to be familiar with it to know what's going on though. Just know that if the location names/travel times seem weird, it's because it's actually like that in canon. Seriously, I compiled a timeline based on everything that happens, and I can only assume the US military has access to REALLY fast vehicles, because Captain Rush can go from Washington DC to California or vice versa in about an hour.

2\. This isn't supposed to be a dig against the US in real life; in Full Story Mode Captain Rush's superiors actually express implicit displeasure about having outsiders involved in dealing with the Terror Bite incident.

3\. My initial idea was to have them head to Pier 5 in California to meet up with Captain Rush, but I realised that Rush was already done investigating when he left to deal with the Hamelin Battalion's assault on the airport. I figured it would be easier to have them head directly to the Financial District, which is where Rush would have been going in the first place without the ambush on the airport.

4\. Also, the agents are at the trade site earlier than in canon. I figured that without the airport attack, they would be able to reach the place more quickly and monitor it in advance, rather than arriving just as the truck leaves and engaging in a destructive helicopter battle with the truck and reinforcements.


	4. From Bad to Worse

**Yes, I know, I'm really late. This chapter unfortunately took a while to write, and even after revising it several times it's still clunkier than I'd like. I find it a bit difficult to peg Richard's personality and manner of speaking since we never hear him speak in canon. Not to mention, writing about missions and fight sequences is not my strong point. My apologies in advance; I'll try to do better next time.**

* * *

 **SIDESTORY ALERT!**

Due to the scope of Temporal Fates, there are times when certain backstories or subplots might add an additional layer to the story, but won't fit in the main fic due to pacing issues. So I'll be posting said subplots as sidestories as and when they become relevant. Strictly speaking, none of these sidestories HAVE to be read to understand Temporal Fates, but they might give you a bit of extra insight into how I view the characters.

The first sidestory concerns my headcanon for Richard's backstory, starting from the end of TC1 and leading up to his circumstances in Temporal Fates. I'm still writing it, but I should (hopefully) be done by this weekend.

* * *

 **2.30 pm**

 **12 November 2013**

 **VSSE Director's Office**

"You called for me, sir?" Richard quietly slipped into the Director's office.

The Director gave him a tight–lipped smile. "Yes, I did. Thank you for coming so quickly, Agent Miller."

Taking a seat opposite the Director, Richard waited patiently for him to elaborate.

"I'm afraid we need you for another assignment," the Director explained apologetically.

Seeing Richard about to protest, he held up a hand to forestall the agent. "I know you just returned from a mission a few days ago, but due to… recent events… we're rather short–handed at the moment. Unfortunately, the other Crisis Agents are otherwise engaged, or I would have sent someone else."

Richard sighed internally but swallowed his protests, knowing the Director was right. After losing Evan and then Giorgio in quick succession, the atmosphere in Headquarters had become a lot more subdued. The agents often found themselves working overtime to pick up the slack, and there was a lot less good–natured bantering in the office with the twin spectres of Giorgio and Evan still haunting them.

"What's the situation?"

"There's been some suspicious activity near a small village in England. A logging company has recently obtained a permit to operate in the nearby forest. In the wake of their arrival, locals who enter the woods have been going missing." (1)

"What about the local police? Why aren't they handling it?" Richard asked.

"That's the other part of the problem. The local police already sent a few officers to investigate. But the officers abruptly went radio silent and vanished without a trace. After that, they requested assistance from the city police, but the squad sent to investigate also vanished. Rather than risk losing another squad, the authorities decided to ask us to investigate instead."

"Alright. When do I leave?"

"First thing tomorrow. That should give you enough time to settle whatever you might need to before the mission," the Director replied.

As Richard stood up and prepared to leave, the Director stopped him.

"Wait, Richard."

He turned back around to face the Director. "What is it?"

There was a hint of worry in the Director's expression. "This should hopefully be a simple assignment, but please be careful. I don't wish to lose any more of my agents."

Richard swallowed, giving the Director a respectful nod before exiting the room.

* * *

"May I have a word with you, Agent Miller?" An irritated voice spoke up from behind him, and Richard winced reflexively as he turned around.

Though she had grown from a young lady into a lovely woman, Rachel Miller nee MacPherson still appeared as petite and demure as she had been when Richard first met her. People often dismissed her as harmless, seeing only her kind and gentle exterior.

Richard knew better, of course. Behind her sweet demeanour, Rachel was keenly intelligent, which had prompted her recruitment by the VSSE's Science Department after graduation. She also had a surprisingly fierce spirit, and those who underestimated her usually came to regret doing so afterwards.

"Rach…"

"I heard you're leaving on another mission tomorrow. Is it true?" She asked, sounding dangerously polite.

Richard sighed. "Unfortunately, yes. The other agents aren't available, so I've been assigned to handle it."

"Richard, I've barely seen you for the last few weeks. Do you know what it's like to realise you've been spending more time with your colleagues than your own husband?" Rachel took a deep breath, looking as though she was trying her best to stay calm.

"I don't… I know your job's important, and I don't want to stand in the way of your duty. But I just wish we could spend a bit more time together."

"…I'm sorry, Rach." Richard swallowed, as a pang of guilt shot through him. "I know I haven't been able to spend much time with you recently. I can't blow off this assignment, but… I promise, once I get back we'll make time to go out together."

"Are you sure you won't just get sent out again?" Rachel asked dryly.

Richard smirked. "The Director owes me a fair amount of time off by now. If you can wrangle a bit of leave, we can make plans to take some time away from work together."

"I'll hold you to that," Rachel warned him, a teasing lilt to her voice.

"If all goes well, I should be back in a few days," he replied. "I'm sure you can find some way to keep yourself occupied in the meantime."

"As it happens, an old friend of mine from university is in town. We were thinking of meeting up for lunch; perhaps I'll make plans with her while you're away. Better than eating in the cafeteria for the 9th day in a row, at any rate," Rachel remarked sarcastically.

Richard mentally rolled his eyes but refrained from commenting, not wanting to rise to Rachel's bait.

* * *

Early the next morning, Richard quietly slipped out of bed, taking care not to disturb his still sleeping wife. Rachel stirred slightly in her sleep but didn't awaken. Watching her peaceful countenance, Richard hesitated, then pressed a gentle kiss to Rachel's forehead before reluctantly leaving their room.

The journey to England and then to the village was uneventful. It was mid–afternoon when Richard arrived, and he wasted no time in getting to work. (2)

Questioning the locals yielded plenty of gossip and rumours, but not much in the way of facts. The forest bordering the village was vast and deep. Though there wasn't much wildlife within, people were warned to leave before sunset. Previously, the biggest issue was kids or teenagers who thought they were being clever and straying too deep into the woods, only to get lost trying to find their way out. This usually resulted in a few adults being sent in to search for them, followed by an epic chewing out once they were found.

In light of the recent disappearances, the locals had stopped entering the forest entirely. Even foolhardy teenagers wouldn't venture beyond the entrance, from which the village was still visible. As for the logging company and its workers, they had entered the forest shortly after their initial arrival a few weeks ago and had not been seen or heard from since. It was likely they had set up their base of operations deeper within the forest, but the locals were not particularly eager to go looking for it.

Upon learning that Richard intended to venture into the forest to investigate, most of the villagers responded by shaking their heads and wishing him good luck.

Richard said nothing in response to their discouraging reactions, but his senses were on high alert as he vanished into the thick foliage of the forest.

* * *

 **1.15 pm**

 **13 November 2013**

 **Cafe in New York, a few blocks away from VSSE Headquarters** (3)

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Rachel glanced at her companion with a mischievous grin.

The woman sitting across from her laughed. "I'm just surprised I managed to pull you away from your work long enough to meet up for lunch. What's the occasion?"

"Hilarious, Soph." Rachel let out a good–natured huff. "It's no big deal really; my husband was called away for work, so our plans fell through. I figured eating with you would be marginally better than spending lunch hour alone."

Although she was Sercian by birth, Rachel had completed her higher education in an American university. Sophie Anderson had been her roommate at the time, and the two of them had shared a friendly rivalry throughout their studies. Over the years, they had unfortunately drifted apart as life got in the way. With her degree in Biochemistry, Rachel had joined the VSSE as a scientist, working on R&D projects which would help VSSE agents to operate more smoothly in the long–run. Conversely, Sophie was a Physics major and had been recruited by a research firm in the private sector after graduation.

"Another workaholic? Sounds like you two were made for each other," Sophie shot back teasingly. "I forgot, how'd you guys meet?"

"Workplace romance," Rachel replied smoothly. "He's a freelancer for the government, and we crossed paths at work."

 _Well, during_ _ **his**_ _work, at any rate, but close enough._

The best lies were often rooted in truth, after all.

Fortunately, her friend accepted the half–truth with a nod. "Ah, yeah. You're still doing research for the government then? Trying to cure the common cold or something?"

"Something like that," Rachel sidestepped the question, deciding to change the subject. "And you? What have you been up to recently?"

The two women spent an enjoyable lunch swapping stories and reminiscing about their shenanigans back in university. Before she knew it, Rachel's lunch break was almost up.

"I should probably get going soon," she said apologetically. "Duty calls, and all that."

"Aw, so soon? At least stay and have dessert," Sophie wheedled. "Their strawberry shortcake looks fantastic."

Rachel sighed, but caved in the face of Sophie's puppy dog eyes. The other woman's eyes lit up and she disappeared to the front of the cafe, returning shortly after with the promised dessert.

She nudged it towards Rachel. "You should try it first, since you're in a hurry."

Rachel took a bite of the dessert, savouring the taste as an explosion of flavour filled her mouth. "You're right, this is really good…"

A sudden wave of dizziness slammed into her, and her vision blurred.

 _What…?_

As the darkness closed in, the last thing she saw was Sophie gazing calmly at her, the faintest hint of a satisfied smile tugging at her lips.

* * *

The first thing Rachel noticed as consciousness slowly returned was a persistent ache throbbing through her skull. Biting the inside of her cheek to stop herself from making any noise, she remained very still and kept her eyes shut, feigning unconsciousness.

 _You've got to be kidding me. Not again…_

A small, sardonic voice at the back of her mind noted that at least this kidnapping had been relatively painless thus far, unlike her first stint as a hostage.

Through the darkness, she heard the sound of approaching footsteps, which grew louder until they stopped right in front of her.

"You can drop the act, Rach. I know you're awake."

The familiar yet mocking voice sent a chill down her spine, and she felt herself tense up slightly.

There was a sigh. "You know, I'm trying to be nice. If you insist on being difficult, you're not going to like what happens next."

Reluctantly, Rachel opened her eyes, glaring at the woman in front of her.

"Oh don't look at me like that, it wasn't personal." Sophie rolled her eyes, looking thoroughly unbothered by Rachel's hostility.

Rachel surreptitiously tested the restraints binding her but couldn't find a weak spot. She refocused her attention on her former friend. "What the hell happened to you? What are you playing at?"

Sophie gave her a contemplative look. "Don't take it personally. Sacrifices must be made in the name of scientific breakthroughs. Let's just say my employers have recently garnered some… unwanted attention. Our spies warned us the authorities decided to seek external assistance to deal with the situation. We thought it prudent to acquire… shall we say, a bargaining chip to negotiate."

… _Surely not…_

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Rachel managed to reply in a would–be casual tone.

"Don't play dumb, Rach; it doesn't suit you," Sophie replied mockingly. "If it's any consolation, the only reason I figured it out is because I know you. That kidnapping incident back in university? Sure, you glossed over the whole thing afterwards, but it wasn't hard to make a few educated guesses. After that, it took some digging. The VSSE is good at covering its tracks, but there's no such thing as a perfect secret. Nothing direct, but enough traces of circumstantial evidence to make us quite certain we were on the right track."

"We've known for a while, of course. We simply haven't needed it until now, and so we quietly sat on the intel. With the recent trouble, we figured it was worth seeing whether we could use it to gain an edge. To my delight, you were so eager to meet up. I was afraid you might refuse, and we would lose our opportunity. We were trying to keep things quiet, after all; no sense in stirring up even more trouble while trying to acquire an advantage. Imagine our surprise when our spies reported that **your husband** was the VSSE agent assigned to investigate. Our gamble paid off far more richly than we could have dreamed of!"

 _And if Richard hadn't been assigned to investigate, I would have turned down Sophie's invitation and gone out for lunch with him instead. The circumstances which made me valuable as leverage are the same circumstances which made it possible for me to get kidnapped in the first place._

Rachel bitterly noted the irony of the situation, feeling a surge of hysterical laughter bubbling up in her throat. She forced herself to choke it down, trying to remain calm. "So, what are you planning to do to me?"

"Nothing, if the VSSE agrees to back off. I think we'd both prefer that, wouldn't we? I'd hate for things to get messy." Sophie sighed regretfully.

Rachel let out a harsh laugh. "Bullshit. How stupid do you think I am? If you were planning to let me go, I'd never have seen your face nor heard any of this."

Sophie's eyes hardened. "How about this then? If your beloved husband backs off, I promise you it'll be over quickly. If not… Well, perhaps I'll be a **bit** lenient on account of our friendship."

Rachel glared at Sophie for a moment, then spat at her.

Sophie reeled backwards in shock, then broke out into a laugh. "Looks like someone hasn't had her coffee."

Before Rachel could react, Sophie slapped her across the face, causing her head to snap to one side.

As she tried to shake off her dazed state, she heard Sophie's voice, as though from far away. "It's amusing to see you still have some fight in you. Enjoy it while you still can."

Her footsteps receded into the distance, and Rachel was left alone again.

In the absence of her captor, the panic she'd been suppressing finally spilled over, and a few tears escaped as she pressed her lips together, trying not to cry out loud.

The last time she had been kidnapped, she knew where she was being held. Richard had been sent to rescue her, and aside from getting shot in the arm it had been over fairly quickly and painlessly.

This time, she was in a warehouse in some unknown location. Richard was miles away, and the VSSE wouldn't have any idea where to start looking for her. Try as she might, she couldn't see a way out of this situation.

 _I don't want to die…_

* * *

Richard hadn't been in the forest long before he found the logging company's workers. Or, more accurately, they had found him.

The remote possibility that they were not involved in the disappearances was ruled out as soon as they pulled guns on him.

After dispatching his attackers, he followed their trail back to their base camp. It looked recently abandoned, and he guessed that they had made a tactical retreat after hearing the commotion from the fight with his attackers. There were still some scattered papers lying around.

 _They must have been in a huge hurry._

Frowning, Richard took a look around the camp. There were a few token pieces of equipment lying abandoned, but it didn't look as though the loggers had been very busy with their jobs.

He turned his attention to the papers instead. Most of them were crumpled and smudged, making them difficult to read, but he managed to make out a few words.

'Test subjects'… 'Site B'… 'Phase 2'…

 _So the logging company is just a front… Why do they always turn out to be mad scientists? What happened to good old–fashioned corrupt corporations making illegal profits?_

Amongst the papers was what appeared to be a map. Though some parts of it were faded, it seemed to indicate there was a facility hidden deeper within the forest.

Picking up the map, Richard considered his options. It was already getting late, and while he had a flashlight, he didn't like the idea of navigating through a deep forest in the dark. Especially since it was being occupied by hostiles who were a lot more familiar with the place than he was.

Backtracking out of the forest in the dark was probably not a good idea either, and it would be a waste of time to have to find his way back the next morning.

 _Guess I'm roughing it here till dawn. Not the worst place I've spent the night._

Pulling out his phone, he prepared to contact Headquarters, hoping that the base camp had reception.

Fortunately for him, the call connected almost immediately.

"Agent Miller, thank goodness. We've been trying to contact you." The Director's usually calm voice sounded worried, and alarms began going off in Richard's head.

"My apologies, I had no reception. What's the matter?"

"I'm afraid there's some bad news. Rachel has been kidnapped."

He could feel the blood draining from his face. "What?! What happened?"

"She was reported missing after her lunch break. A few hours later, we received a transmission from an unknown source. They had a video showing Rachel being held captive, and we were told to call off the investigation or else."

 _Son of a bitch…!_

Richard clenched his fists tightly, clamping down on the surge of panic the Director's words provoked. "I need to find her."

"Richard…" The Director hesitated. "I'm sorry, but I can't let you do that."

"My wife is in danger!" Richard retorted angrily. "Do you expect me to just sit here and do nothing?"

"Richard, think. If we give in to their demands, they won't have any use for a hostage anymore. We're doing our best to locate her, but you need to focus on taking down the masterminds."

Rationally, he knew the Director was right. They couldn't let the culprits get away unpunished, and on a practical level backing down would do nothing to save Rachel either. But the thought of leaving his wife's fate in the hands of others…

Angrily, he slammed a fist into the ground. "Fine. But when I find those scumbags, I'm going to rip them to shreds. What leads do you have?"

"Unfortunately, the transmission was encrypted, so we couldn't trace it. Based on the timeframe of Rachel's disappearance and the video being sent to us, we've narrowed it down to a general area where she could be. We're analysing the video for further clues about where she's being held, and teams of agents are being sent out to search for her. I know it seems bleak, but we're doing everything we can to find her."

Richard swallowed painfully, feeling a slight wetness to his eyes. "Please… promise me you'll bring her home."

"I promise, we'll do our best. I'm sorry this happened, Richard," The Director said softly.

"So am I," Richard replied bitterly before hanging up.

His first instinct was to press on towards the hidden facility, darkness be damned. Then the rational part of his mind reminded him that getting himself killed trying to assault the facility in the dark would help nobody.

The chaotic mess of emotions plaguing him made the idea of sleeping seem laughable. Nonetheless, he reluctantly closed his eyes, knowing that he would at least need to get some rest to have any hope of confronting the ringleaders when morning came.

It was a long time before he finally drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

As the first light of dawn broke, Richard awakened, feeling both ill–rested and full of nervous energy. He wasted no time in starting out towards the facility, grimly determined to complete his mission at all costs.

The facility was hidden deep within the forest. From the looks of it, the masterminds had taken over an abandoned building, which had long since been forgotten, and used it as their stronghold.

Fighting hordes of enemies was almost second nature to him, and Richard was thankful that his instincts were able to carry him through the shootout, distracted as he was by his worry over Rachel.

The interior of the facility seemed to be a rudimentary laboratory of sorts. Wicked–looking equipment decorated the rooms, and he came across a few rooms that looked disturbingly like operating theatres. He had yet to come across any of the missing villagers, or anybody else who wasn't attempting to kill him.

 _What the hell is going on in here?_

Rounding the corner, he burst through the door in front of him, finding himself in a room lined with a wall of computer screens. Standing inside was a black–haired man wearing glasses and a lab coat, gazing at him in amusement.

"I must admit, I'm impressed. I didn't expect you to make it here so quickly."

"Where are the villagers?" Richard demanded, aiming his gun at the man.

"Hm? Oh, I'm afraid you're too late," the man smirked. "Our surviving test subjects are already en route to their destiny. They should be honoured we chose them to play a part in shattering the boundaries of scientific knowledge."

 _Damn it…!_

"What are you really up to? Why this village?"

The scientist shrugged, his nonchalant expression never wavering. "You wouldn't understand if I tried to explain, not even if you had all the time in the world. As for the why, we simply needed test subjects. The villagers just happened to be in the right place at the right time for us to… borrow their assistance."

He paused for a moment, then a cruel grin slowly stretched across his face. "I'm surprised you're so calm, all things considered. Does your wife truly mean so little to you?"

Richard tightened his grip on his gun, squashing the urge to put a bullet through the scientist's skull. "I trust my fellow agents."

"…So be it." In the blink of an eye, the scientist twisted away, narrowly dodging as Richard fired at him, while pulling out his own gun to fire back. Despite his unassuming appearance, the man was a surprisingly competent fighter, and a pitched battle ensued.

At length, Richard managed to get the upper hand, firing off a shot that struck the scientist squarely in the shoulder. The man collapsed with a strangled scream and went limp.

Cautiously, Richard approached him. He remained motionless as Richard roughly grabbed hold of him, relieving him of his pistol and checking his pulse.

 _Not dead, just unconscious. There'll be time to question him later._

Richard took a cursory look around the room and noticed that one of the screens was lit up. With a final glance at the unconscious scientist, he turned his attention to the monitor.

 _Looks like lab testing data. Maybe R &D can make sense of this._

He quickly downloaded a copy of the data to his phone, then prepared to contact Headquarters and request an extraction.

There was a loud click, and an alarm began blaring overhead.

 **Self–destruct initiated. All personnel, please evacuate immediately.**

Too late, he whipped around to see the no longer unconscious scientist tossing aside a switch with a sadistic smirk.

"Nice try, Mr Agent. But I believe you're out of time."

As Richard lunged towards him, he snatched a knife out of his pocket and slit his throat in one swift move.

 **Self–destruct commencing in 5 minutes.**

 _Shit…!_

Cursing both the dead scientist and his own slip–up, Richard cast one last glance behind him before making his escape.

* * *

He barely managed to make it beyond the blast zone before the facility was consumed by the explosion.

Coughing, he slowly got to his feet, ears still ringing.

 _That could have gone a lot better._

Pulling out his phone, he was relieved to see that both the device and the data within were intact.

 _Hopefully these files might tell us what they were up to._

Punching a series of numbers into his phone, he waited impatiently for the call to connect.

"Agent Miller." The Director's voice sounded calmer this time, but Richard could still hear the underlying stress in his tone.

"The captured villagers weren't there," Richard said bluntly. "Unfortunately, the scientist heading the facility managed to blow himself up along with the building before I could interrogate him further. I managed to retrieve some files before the place exploded though. Have you found Rachel yet?"

"The team of agents sent to locate Rachel are closing in on where we believe she's being held," the Director replied.

"Where you **believe** she's being held?" Richard repeated incredulously. "And where would that be?"

"Richard, I know you're worried, but by the time you get there the agents will be done," the Director said firmly. "I know this must be difficult but please, just come back to Headquarters."

"You realise that as soon as her captors learn what's just happened, they'll have no reason to keep her alive any longer?" Richard tried to keep his tone level as a small voice reminded him that yelling at the Director would be a terrible idea.

"The agents are on their way right now, and the news is unlikely to have spread yet. Either way, you won't get there in time to do anything. Come back to Headquarters and let us take care of it," the Director responded softly.

Gritting his teeth, Richard's fingers tightened their grip on his phone. "Fine," he bit out. "She'd better be safe by the time I get back."

With a vicious stab of a finger, he disconnected the call, shoving the phone back into his pocket with shaking hands.

* * *

The journey back to VSSE Headquarters seemed to take a lifetime. As soon as he arrived, Richard made a beeline for the Director's office, his steely glare sending anyone in his way scurrying for safety.

Upon entering the room, his heart sank as he saw the grave expression on the Director's face.

"Richard…"

"Where is she?" He asked, desperation colouring his tone.

Slowly, the Director shook his head. "I'm sorry."

 _No…_

"Where is she?" Richard repeated, shoving his shaking hands in his pockets. "I need to see her."

"Richard, I don't…"

"For God's sake, let me see her!" Richard shouted, feeling something twist sharply inside him.

The Director hesitated for a moment before leading Richard out of the office.

 _Maybe it's a mistake. Maybe it's not actually her. Maybe she's just…_

His thoughts came to an abrupt halt as soon as he saw his wife.

Rachel's waterlogged corpse was lying painfully still on an autopsy table. Though it was difficult to tell with the bloated state of her body, her face seemed to be frozen in a rictus of terror.

 _NO!_

Richard staggered backwards, a surge of nausea and horror rising up within him. Dimly, he registered someone behind him, catching hold of him as he stumbled.

A harsh sobbing sound filled the room, and it took him far longer than it should have to realise it was coming from him.

"What… happened?" He gasped, wiping away his tears with a shaking hand even as they continued to flow.

"We pulled her out of the river, near the hideout her captors were using. Time of death was early this morning," the Director answered softly, loosening his grip on Richard as the agent shakily pulled away.

 _This morning… So, she was already long–dead by the time I…_

Slowly, Richard approached Rachel's body, looking at her through his watery vision.

 _"I promise, once I get back we'll make time to go out together."_

 _"Promise me you'll bring her home."_

 _"I trust my fellow agents."_

"Richard… I'm so sorry." He felt a hand on his shoulder.

Richard whirled around and slammed his fist straight into the Director's face. The Director stumbled back a step but did nothing to stop him.

Richard glared at the Director, furious betrayal burning in his eyes.

"You promised you'd bring her home," he hissed, voice cold as ice. "I trusted you."

The Director bowed his head but remained silent.

"This is your fault. If you hadn't… If I had…" Richard choked on the bitter words he was unable to fully articulate. He turned away, angrily removing his pistol and slamming it onto the table.

"I quit. I'm taking Rachel. I don't want the VSSE handling her burial. It's your fault she's dead."

As he slammed the door behind him, hot tears continued to flow without stopping.

* * *

The news soon made its way around Headquarters, and everyone was in shock. Richard left HQ with his wife's body shortly after blowing up at the Director, vanishing without a trace.

Those who caught a glimpse of him as he left said he had a terrifying look in his eyes, as though he were prepared to declare war against the heavens for Rachel's death.

Somehow, Richard's departure felt more ominous than Evan and Giorgio's downfall just a few months before. Though none of them dared to voice it out loud, many VSSE personnel quietly hoped they wouldn't end up crossing paths with Richard again someday.

* * *

 **Notes:**

1\. I know this seems rather minor compared to the incidents handled in canon, but I'm pretty sure the VSSE handles other stuff besides major, world–ending crises. Otherwise, the VSSE would spend most of its time waiting around for something to happen. Either that, or the world would be on the verge of ending every single day. In this case, though it seems minor, the local authorities did request their assistance, and the VSSE isn't going to dismiss them just because it's not something big.

2\. Yes, there's probably a time difference. Given that the Time Crisis universe also boasts fictional locations like Sercia, Caruba, Lukano and Astigos, I'm just going to gloss over it.

3\. Same goes for the VSSE's Headquarters. I spent way too long trying to figure out where HQ might be based on the timeline in TC4 before I realised that the aforementioned fictional locations made this a rather futile endeavour. For the sake of convenience, I decided to just place VSSE HQ in New York.


	5. War in the Streets

**Yes, I know. I'm sorry about how long this took, especially since the chapter ended up being really short anyway. The first half of Chapter 6 kept clamouring to be written first, and then I kind of freaked out when the scale of what I'm attempting with this fic suddenly hit me. A huge thank you to Lilium for helping me sort out my tangled and overly complicated notes on this fic's worldbuilding; it's starting to feel a bit more doable. With any luck, the second half of Chapter 6 won't give me TOO much trouble so you won't have to wait too long. Expect it by next weekend latest, if it decides to be complicated.**

* * *

For a while, nothing happened. It seemed as though whatever curse had been placed upon the VSSE had finally expired. Though the agency was fragile and shaken by the recent events, things seemed to have calmed down, and the remaining agents slowly began to adjust to the new status quo.

Weeks slipped by, and 2014 soon arrived. The VSSE was slowly starting to try to rebuild, though the atmosphere in Headquarters remained solemn and heavy with the weight of tragedy.

As January went on, disturbing rumours began to emerge.

It started out small at first, almost unnoticeable. A thug gone missing here, a hired gun found dead there.

Then it began to escalate. Arms dealers being brutally murdered. Drug kingpins being blown up along with their supply.

When Wild Dog's mutilated corpse was found dumped in the middle of the Brooklyn Bridge, the VSSE started to get suspicious.

There seemed to be no pattern to it. The various authorities wanted the VSSE to investigate, but the would–be vigilante's motivations were a mystery; there seemed to be nothing linking his attacks, and they had no idea where he would strike next. While he was admittedly doing an effective job of taking out criminals, the assassin's brutal methods and unsanctioned actions meant that they could not stand by and let him continue.

Within VSSE Headquarters, rumours were flying thick and fast. It was universally agreed that Wild Dog had it coming, but… the state of his body was nonetheless extremely disturbing. He appeared to have been tortured extensively before finally expiring. There were deep cuts all over and acid burns marring his skin, along with a myriad of scars that appeared to be relatively new.

Though none of them dared to give voice to their suspicions on the culprit's identity, the same name was on everybody's mind.

They all knew that there was only one person capable of going up against Wild Dog alone. But until recently, nobody would have thought him capable of such brutality. The vigilante hadn't just killed Wild Dog. He had clearly wanted Wild Dog to suffer agonisingly, drawing out his torture as long as possible before finally letting him die.

The murders continued without abating, but the VSSE had no proof or leads of any sort… until the end of January rolled around, bringing with it a fateful encounter.

* * *

 **28 January 2014**

The VSSE still hadn't found a discernible pattern to the vigilante assassin's attacks. However, they had decided to keep tabs on any known criminal organisations they had received tip–offs about. Squads of regular agents were deployed to follow up on these leads and see if the agency could figure out where the assassin would strike next.

Luke O'Neil and Marc Godart had only recently joined the VSSE. Though they hadn't passed the screening test to become Crisis Agents, the reports on their performances noted that both of them had potential. The VSSE decided to keep an eye on them and consider the possibility of promoting them to Crisis Agent status if they showed improvement in the future.

At present, their squad was investigating a hideout belonging to a suspected arms dealer. Splitting up into pairs, they had spread out to cover more ground.

"This is a waste of time," Luke complained. "What are the chances that we're just going to get lucky and stumble upon this guy's next target?"

"We have our orders," Marc retorted. "Quit screwing around and stay on your guard."

"Yeah, yeah…" Luke grumbled, rolling his eyes. "How long more before we—"

A burst of nearby gunfire interrupted him, and both agents instantly snapped to attention.

Exchanging a look, they unholstered their pistols and crept forward.

Marc quietly touched his earpiece. "We have shots fired in the East Wing. Moving to engage."

As one, they burst into the room ahead of them.

The arms dealer they were supposed to be investigating was lying dead in a pool of blood, an expression of horror frozen on his face. And leaning over him…

"Agent Miller?" Luke blurted out without thinking, staring at the man with wide eyes.

Richard's eyes were hard and unforgiving as he whipped around, firing off a hail of bullets. Luke and Marc barely managed to dive behind cover as the bullets flew past where they had been standing.

The agents tried their best to engage Richard, but it was a losing battle from the start. Two fresh recruits against the VSSE's former legendary agent… It wasn't difficult to see which way the fight was going to go. Pretty soon, they found themselves on the defensive, reduced to dodging and desperately trying to avoid being shot.

Footsteps echoed from outside the room, and Richard's head whipped around. With a quick glance at Luke and Marc, he tossed a smoke grenade over his shoulder and fled through the door on the other side of the room.

By the time the rest of the squad appeared, the smoke had cleared, and there was no sign of Richard anywhere.

* * *

 **A few hours later**

 **VSSE Director's Office**

"So, our suspicions were correct…" The Director steepled his fingers, frowning.

The squad had hastily made their way back to HQ, and now Luke and Marc were sitting in the Director's office and reporting what they'd seen.

"How did the two of you manage to survive?"

The agents looked at each other. They had no illusions that it was their skills which allowed them to escape. Richard could have killed them anytime if he'd wanted to.

"I think… He was toying with us, sir," Luke finally replied.

"How so?"

Marc spoke up at this point. "He could have killed us immediately… Instead, he was firing near us and forcing us to dodge, but he never actually tried to shoot us directly. And when the rest of our squad arrived, he just threw a smoke grenade at us and fled."

"Hm." The Director fell silent, looking deep in thought.

After a few moments, he looked over at Luke and Marc. "Regardless of Miller's intent, it's commendable that you were able to hold out until reinforcements arrived. Now we know for certain he's responsible. And unfortunately, he knows that we know as well. Which means he'll be on his guard when we start hunting him."

Luke and Marc exchanged a nervous look but said nothing.

"That will be all, gentleman. Thank you for your report."

As Luke and Marc left the office, both of them were wondering the same thing:

How on earth was the VSSE going to subdue the legendary ex–Agent?

* * *

After Luke and Marc's encounter with Richard, everything seemed to happen all at once.

Large–scale attacks on various criminal organisations' hideouts began occurring all over the world. Whatever little restraint Richard had been exercising vanished, and civilian casualties began mounting rapidly. The VSSE had its hands full deploying squads of regular agents in an attempt to contain the situation. Richard wasn't spotted again, but from the looks of things he now had a large number of mercenaries under his command.

The VSSE agents soon found themselves being drawn into a war for survival as each incident they investigated led to battles against a seemingly endless horde of enemy troops. It was like playing a game of whack–a–mole, with the agents scrambling to contain one attack only to have three more pop up while they were preoccupied.

Working frantically, the intelligence officers finally managed to figure out a rough pattern based on Richard's past targets and narrow down the list of possibilities for where he might strike next. With two possible targets and two pairs of Crisis Agents left, the VSSE decided to send each pair to investigate one of the possibilities.

Keith and Robert were sent to England to investigate rumours about a smuggling ring operating out of London. Meanwhile, Alan and Wesley headed to Chicago to hunt down a drug kingpin who had been making a name for himself in the underworld.

If they were able to ambush Richard's men for once, perhaps they might be able to turn the tide.

Maybe, they might finally find something that would lead them to Richard.

* * *

Keith and Robert reported in first. Richard's forces had already arrived and begun slaughtering their way through the place. The agents were about to go in after them, hoping to capture one of them alive or at least find some intel that would give them an idea where to go next.

Given the circumstances, Alan and Wesley were ordered to wrap up the investigation on their end as quickly as possible and head to London to back up Keith and Robert. Unfortunately, they soon ran into some trouble of their own…

* * *

 **12 February 2014**

 **Backstreets of Chicago**

Alan cursed as a bullet whizzed past him, forcing him to duck behind a nearby dustbin.

With no sign of either the drug kingpin or Richard's forces, he and Wesley had been about to head out to join Keith and Robert. Unfortunately, it turned out that the unnatural absence of enemy forces was deliberate, and Alan and Wesley found that their would–be targets had instead set up an ambush for them.

Chaos broke out. Richard's men had no qualms about firing indiscriminately in the streets despite the presence of rapidly panicking civilians. While Alan and Wesley did their best to fight back, they were hindered by the restraint they had to exercise to avoid getting innocents caught in the crossfire.

Pretty soon, they found themselves being backed into an alley, desperately trying to fight off the advancing horde of attackers.

"Where the hell does Miller find these guys?" Alan complained, reloading his gun and firing at a nearby assailant.

"He probably hired them from the same underworld he's hunting," Wesley suggested sardonically, eyes narrowed in concentration as he aimed at another mercenary.

"Talk about hypocrisy," Alan snorted. "When we find him, I'm going to give him a piece of my mind."

Despite their attempts at engaging in their usual banter, neither agent found the situation particularly amusing. With the urgency of the circumstances they were in, they needed to end the skirmish as soon as possible and link up with Keith and Robert.

* * *

After nearly exhausting their supply of ammunition, Alan and Wesley finally managed to subdue the last of their attackers.

Tiredly slumping against the wall, Wesley glanced at Alan. "You alright?"

"Just peachy." Alan let out a bitter laugh. "You know, when we joined the VSSE, I thought we'd be saving the world. Not fighting a losing war for survival."

"It's not like you to be so pessimistic," Wesley said softly. "We've faced unfair odds before."

"Yeah, but not against someone who was supposed to be on our side." Alan rubbed his eyes tiredly.

As Wesley opened his mouth to respond, there was a sudden explosion of noise.

Something shattering loudly behind them…

A startled yell…

And a loud gunshot that split the air.

Alan and Wesley whirled around in alarm to find one of the enemy agents standing behind them, apparently not dead. Before he had the chance to attack them again, they quickly fired at him, ensuring he stayed down this time.

With their assailant no longer a threat, they turned to look in the direction of whoever had alerted them to the man's presence.

Their saviour turned out to be a man lying slumped against the wall of the alley who they hadn't noticed earlier, preoccupied as they were with staying alive.

With his ragged clothing and unkempt, overgrown hair, not to mention the strong smell of alcohol on his breath, he appeared to be a homeless drunk.

Alan stared at him for a moment, then did a double–take.

"Giorgio?!"


	6. Fallen Heroes

**So, apparently I'm awful at judging time :P I'm done with this WAY earlier than expected. Which, given that it's me, probably means Chapter 7 is going to be pretty late :P A huge thank you to Lilium for helping me vet this chapter. And to Rainbow: Is this enough Sophie torture for you? :P**

* * *

Giorgio had never liked drinking.

Not that he had many chances to do so as a Crisis Agent. It wasn't particularly wise to get drunk when you could get called in for a mission on a moment's notice.

But even before that, he hadn't really enjoyed drinking. The few times he tried it, he learned that he became extremely morose and melancholic when intoxicated. Inevitably, the deaths of his family would resurface at the forefront of his mind. It usually ended with him spending the rest of the night drunkenly crying over them and having bad alcohol–induced nightmares as a result, topped off with a killer headache the next morning.

Half a year after Evan's death, Giorgio could barely remember what it felt like to be sober.

The first few weeks after leaving the VSSE had been a blur. Giorgio's only thought had been to get as far away from his old life as possible. He had drifted aimlessly from place to place, crashing in cheap motels when he was too exhausted to keep moving. Often, he had ended up being kicked out for causing a disturbance when he screamed in his sleep during his constant nightmares.

He made the mistake of returning to Italy at one point, hoping that the distance would be enough to quieten down his nightmares.

Instead, his dreams of Evan's death began to blend with old nightmares about the massacre of his family, worsening the pain tenfold. He often woke in the middle of the night sobbing violently, throat raw from screaming and heart aching so painfully he couldn't understand how he wasn't dead.

He quickly left Italy, but the damage had already been done. The dazed numbness that had mercifully blanketed his consciousness during the daytime had fled. The spectre of Evan's death loomed over him constantly, enveloping him in an inescapable fog of pain and grief that nearly crippled him, yet wasn't enough to put him out of his misery completely.

That was when he had started drinking. It began a long, downward spiral for him: Finding a bar to drown his sorrows and numb the pain, getting kicked out eventually after being cut off by the bartender, stumbling around and finding a place to pass out in a drunken stupor…

Of course, when sleep finally claimed him, the nightmares just started up again, and he woke every morning with a piercing agony in both his head and his heart. The only way he could think of to drown the pain was more alcohol…

And so the cycle continued, Giorgio inching closer to oblivion with each bottle he drained.

Today had been no different. After being kicked out of the latest bar, Giorgio's legs had finally given out in a back alley nearby. Slumping against the wall, he felt his eyes slide shut as he slowly sank into a drunken slumber.

* * *

" _Why can't we ever deal with anyone normal?" Evan complained, wincing as he narrowly dodged the hail of bullets flying at him._

" _Take it up with the Director when we get back," Giorgio replied sarcastically. "Quit screwing around and concentrate. Climbing a human pyramid is hard enough without someone firing at us."_

" _Afraid you can't keep up with me, old man?" Evan grinned cheekily, his pale blue eyes shining with mirth. "Relax, I'll be—"_

 _A loud gunshot split the air, and a bloody hole opened up in Evan's forehead, leaving his face frozen in a grin._

" _NO! Evan!" Giorgio reached for him desperately._

 _Evan's body swayed for a moment… and then he blinked._

 _Slowly, he turned to look at Giorgio, the grin never leaving his face. "What's the matter, Gi? I'm right here."_

 _Giorgio felt his grip slacken, horror paralysing him as Evan reached for him._

" _It's alright, Gi. I'm here. Come with me. Just let go. We can be together again."_

 _Almost as though his body had a mind of its own, Giorgio released his grip and took hold of Evan's hand._

 _As the ground rushed up to meet them, Evan wrapped his arms around Giorgio in a tight embrace, whispering, "Don't worry. I'll never leave you again."_

* * *

Giorgio shuddered into awareness, breath coming in shallow gasps. It took him some time to realise from the harsh light striking his still–closed eyelids that it was late afternoon; he had been passed out in a drunken stupor for the whole night and most of the day.

The now–familiar throbbing sensation pounded through his head, and there was a sour taste in his mouth. Blindly, he groped for the bottle he had been carrying the night before, hoping that it was not entirely devoid of its precious contents. Everything was too sharp, too chaotic, and he needed the sweet relief only his nectar of oblivion could bring. He could almost still hear the gunfire and shouting from his nightmare, and Evan's gentle voice whispering right in his ear…

It took a few long moments before he noticed that the noise was getting louder. Wincing, he cracked open one eye, wishing whoever it was would go away and stop making his hangover worse.

When his blurry vision finally cleared enough for him to take in the scene unfolding before his eyes, his first thought was that he was still dreaming.

There was no other rational explanation for it. There was no way Alan and Wesley were actually standing in the alley, engaging a horde of armed men in a firefight.

The agents looked more exhausted than he had ever seen them. There was a sharp edge to their usual joking banter, coloured by an undertone of harsh desperation. Their assailants were slowly gaining the upper–hand, backing them into a corner even as Alan and Wesley tried to stand their ground.

Finally locating his bottle, Giorgio closed his eyes and took a long swig, wondering exactly how strong yesterday's booze had been for him to be hallucinating such bizarre scenarios.

Everything seemed to go a bit wobbly after that, the chaos of the hallucinatory firefight mercifully fading into an inaudible wash of white noise.

Giorgio didn't know how long it had been, but when he opened his eyes again, the alley was littered with the attackers' bodies. Alan and Wesley were leaning against the opposite wall from where he was lying, looking both relieved and exhausted. The agents were conversing in hushed tones, barely paying any heed to their surroundings.

Giorgio swallowed, a hint of doubt creeping into his mind. The acrid stench of blood filled the air, and the scattered corpses looked real enough. But why were Alan and Wesley fighting enemies here, of all places? Why did they look so grim and exhausted?

Catching a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye, he slowly turned his head to look.

One of the attackers appeared to be not quite dead, and was presently pulling himself to his feet.

As Alan and Wesley continued their conversation, their backs to the man, Giorgio felt a chill run down his spine.

 _This isn't real… Wake up… Wake up wake up wake up…_

The man slowly raised his pistol, aiming at the agents.

For the first time in months, a sharp wave of unadulterated panic pierced through the dull haze of alcohol clouding Giorgio's mind.

In one swift move, he flung his bottle at the man's head with a speed he hadn't realised he still possessed.

It missed.

Giorgio's hands had been shaking from the alcohol as well as panic. It was a miracle he was able to even aim anywhere near the man.

The bottle flew right past the man, shattering loudly against the wall near his head. He let out a startled yell, firing harmlessly into the air above the agents instead.

Alan and Wesley instantly whipped around, alerted by the noise, dispatching the man before he had the chance to try again.

With their assailant dead, they turned to look in Giorgio's direction. For a moment, there was confusion written all over their faces. Then their eyes widened in shock and horror.

"Giorgio?" Alan stared at him, taking in his unkempt appearance.

Giorgio reached out with a shaking hand as both agents kneeled down beside him, looking as though they couldn't believe their eyes.

"You're… Are you real?" He croaked, voice hoarse from disuse.

The agents exchanged a horrified look before Alan gently took Giorgio's hand. He felt warm… and solid… and real.

"Yes, we're real. We're right here, Giorgio," he said quietly. The raw concern in his eyes was almost too much for Giorgio to bear. A sharp wave of grief swept through him, and he abruptly pulled away from Alan.

"Go away… Leave me alone," he rasped, squeezing his eyes shut as hot tears began to form.

There was a moment of silence, then he felt someone taking a seat beside him and gently placing a hand on his shoulder.

"What happened to you, Giorgio?" Alan asked softly. "Where have you been?"

"I've been forgetting," Giorgio spat bitterly. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Doing our jobs," Wesley answered, struggling to keep his tone neutral. His heart ached as he looked at the broken man before him, virtually unrecognisable as the formidable agent he had once been.

"Well, go do your job someplace else," Giorgio hissed. Fleetingly, he contemplated searching for the shattered remnants of his bottle and seeing if he could salvage any of the precious liquid that was spilling out onto the ground.

Alan shook his head firmly. "We're not going to just leave you here like this. Come back to Headquarters with us. We can help you."

"Which part of get lost do you not understand?" Giorgio snapped. "I don't want your help! Just leave me alone!"

"…I made the mistake of leaving you alone the last time you asked me to, and look where that got us," Alan responded softly. "We've been worried about you ever since you vanished. Please, Giorgio… Come home with us."

Giorgio let out a mirthless laugh that was almost a sob. "Maybe you didn't hear me. Let me spell it out for you. I don't want anything to do with you, or the VSSE, or anybody else at all. I don't **care** about anything, especially not any of you."

"If that's the case, why did you save us?" Wesley asked him pointedly. Giorgio flinched and looked away, refusing to meet Wesley's eyes.

"You could have easily left us to be gunned down," Wesley pointed out. "What does it matter? After all, it's not like you care, right?"

At this, Giorgio pulled his knees up to his chest, hands trembling slightly. "Please… Just forget about me and go. I'm already dead. Just let me be a ghost… Please."

Wesley let out a disbelieving huff. "So that's your choice then? Do you really think Evan would have wanted you to gradually drink yourself to death all alone in a dark alley?"

Giorgio's eyes flashed angrily. "You SON OF A BITCH!"

Infuriated, he launched himself forward and took a swing at Wesley. The older man blocked his punch, grappling with Giorgio as he screamed and lashed out.

At length, the fight drained out of Giorgio and he went limp, sobbing violently as he collapsed against Wesley. With a soft sigh, Wesley pulled Giorgio into a rough embrace, holding him as he wept like a lost child.

Deciding to allow Giorgio some semblance of privacy, Alan stood up and turned away, pulling out his phone to contact Keith and Robert.

"Agent Baxter speaking," Robert's ever irritated voice greeted him.

"Robert, it's Alan."

"What is it?" The senior agent asked tersely. "We're kind of busy here."

"We've taken care of the situation here, but… Well…" Alan hesitated, glancing at Giorgio's shaking form.

"Spit it out, Dunaway. What's going on?"

"Robert… It's Giorgio. We found him."

There was a stunned silence.

"Bruno?" Robert said incredulously. "How on earth… Never mind. What's his status?"

Alan swallowed painfully. "He's… not doing well. It looks like he's been in pretty bad shape since he vanished. We're bringing him back to Headquarters to try to get him some proper help."

"Understood. We'll handle things here."

The line went dead.

Turning, Alan watched as Wesley slowly helped Giorgio to his feet, slinging an arm around his shoulders to support him. The younger man was still clinging tightly to Wesley, burying his face in Wesley's shoulder. Though his violent weeping had mostly died down, his shoulders still shook with the occasional sob.

Alan had already let Giorgio slip away once. He would not make the same mistake again.

* * *

"What was that about?" Keith asked. He had been searching the other side of the room when the call came in.

"Dunaway says they ran into Bruno," Robert replied bluntly.

"What?!" Keith stared at him. "How? What happened?"

"I don't know. I didn't ask. Long story short, they're bringing him back to Headquarters first. It'll be some time before they're able to join us, so we're on our own here."

"Bloody hell…" Keith rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I can't believe Giorgio's actually alive. After what happened, I thought for sure that he was…"

"Yeah, well… Never mind that now." Robert decided to change the subject, not wanting to dwell on it further. "Did you find anything?"

Keith looked somewhat unhappy at Robert's response but reluctantly returned his attention to the task at hand. "A burn phone with a list of coordinates. Miller's targets, perhaps?"

Robert took the phone from Keith, frowning as he scrolled through the list. "Look at this. There's one set of coordinates which keeps appearing."

Keith leaned over to have a look. "That's in the middle of the ocean. An island, perhaps?"

"Whatever it is, it's probably important," Robert said gruffly, pocketing the phone.

The agents exchanged a look and nodded.

"No time to waste then," Keith declared firmly. "Let's get going."

* * *

They spent the interminably long journey in tense silence. Though neither of them commented on it, both Keith and Robert were wondering whether they would finally catch up with Richard at their destination… and what unpleasant truths they might learn in the process.

As Keith had correctly guessed, their destination turned out to be a small island, overgrown with a vast jungle. It would have been a difficult task to navigate the island in search of Richard… if not for the bloody trail of bodies marking a macabre path further inland.

With growing unease, they made their way through the jungle, finally coming to a stop in front of an ominous–looking building that had been hidden by the thick foliage.

Glancing at each other, the agents drew their guns and cautiously entered.

* * *

The interior of the building proved to be just as disturbing as the trail leading to it.

It appeared to be a massive laboratory of some sorts, full of sophisticated equipment… and dead scientists, slumped lifelessly throughout the building.

The agents encountered no resistance as they made their way through the carnage, searching for either hostiles or survivors.

There were no signs of life anywhere… at first.

Pushing open a nearby door, Keith came to an abrupt halt at the sight within.

A woman was cuffed to an autopsy table. Though she might have been beautiful once, her face was bruised and swollen. Deep cuts marked her arms, slowly dripping with blood. There were electrical burns marring parts of her skin, turning it an angry shade of red.

"What the fuck…" Keith breathed, feeling sick. Swallowing hard, he glanced at his partner. Robert's expression was as stony as ever, but Keith could see the revulsion in his eyes.

Abruptly, the woman's eyes opened, and she began coughing weakly.

Eyes widening, Keith instantly ran to her side, Robert following behind him a moment later.

"Hang on. We'll get you out of here." Keith examined the cuffs, trying to pry them apart.

"You're early." A cold voice cut through the room.

The agents froze, turning to look at the doorway.

Richard's eyes burned with hatred as he aimed his gun at Keith and Robert.

"Miller," Robert spat angrily. With Richard having gotten the drop on them, any attempt at attacking him would only lead to their deaths.

"Perhaps I should introduce you to my guest. This is Miss Sophie Anderson," Richard commented in a conversational tone. "Did you know that she used to be my wife's roommate back in university? Rachel always spoke so highly of her; she was delighted when Miss Anderson wanted to catch up on old times."

"A pity Miss Anderson didn't value her nearly as much." Richard's voice darkened, face twisting into an ugly sneer. "It seems Miss Anderson became employed by a certain research corporation who wished to deflect the VSSE's attention from its more… unsavoury activities and associates. Rachel suspected nothing of course; why should she have reason to fear a lunch invitation from an old friend?"

Keith clenched his fists tightly, feeling a small sliver of pity in spite of his revulsion at the brutal torture Richard had inflicted upon Sophie. "Torturing her in revenge won't bring your wife back."

Richard raised an eyebrow. "Torture? This is an interrogation… Or it was, until you interrupted. I'd hoped to extend Miss Anderson the same courtesy she showed Rachel and leave her to drown slowly after questioning her, but I suppose I'll have to make do."

Quick as lightning, he fired at the agents, who barely dodged out of the way in time. Before they could shoot back, Richard whipped the gun around and shot Sophie right in the throat.

"No!" Robert drew his pistol and fired off a few bullets, but Richard vanished around the corner before they could hit him.

Biting back a curse, Keith turned his attention back to Sophie. The dying woman gurgled helplessly, choking on her own blood. Amidst the terror in her eyes, there was a hint of something that almost looked like regret. Then her struggling slowed, and her eyes slipped shut.

Gritting his teeth, Keith turned away in disgust. He wasn't sure who he was angrier at: Richard, for his actions; Sophie, for her role in driving Richard over the edge; or himself, for being unable to stop Richard from shooting her.

"We need to hurry. Miller's getting away," Robert's gruff voice broke through his thoughts.

"Right. Let's go." With a final glance at Sophie's corpse, Keith followed his partner out of the room.

* * *

Fortunately, Richard hadn't gone too far, and they were able to pick up his trail. Chasing after him, they burst through a large set of doors to find Richard already inside, waiting for them.

The room was mostly empty, aside from a computer terminal near the entrance and an archway with a strange control panel on the other side of the room.

"Are we done playing around? I have work to do." Richard aimed his pistol at the agents as they pointed their own guns at him.

"Why are you doing this, Miller? Hunting your way through the underworld like this… Do you think you're some kind of vigilante?" Robert demanded.

"They deserved it," Richard spat. "Besides, I needed answers. It took me a long time before I was able to get here. To this island, and the scumbags who killed my wife."

"And the people who got caught in the crossfire? Did they deserve that?" Keith asked coldly.

"Did my wife deserve to be betrayed and killed by someone she thought was a friend? Why should I care about anyone else? I spent years trying to protect the world, and it took everything from me!" Richard shouted. "The world can burn for all I care!"

All hell broke loose.

It was a tough fight; there was almost nowhere in the room for them to take cover. Richard had been the VSSE's top agent for a reason, and his assault against the agents was relentless. But Keith and Robert were seasoned agents as well, and there were two of them.

A split second's mistake was all it took. Richard rolled out of the way as Keith fired at him, only for Robert to shoot the gun out of his hand.

With a wounded yell, he dropped the pistol. The agents immediately closed in on him, Robert kicking the gun out of reach.

As the agents kept their guns trained on him, Richard scowled at them. "Go ahead then. End it."

"Wait." Keith held up a hand, stopping Robert before he could comply. "Call off your forces first."

Richard snorted. "Why should I? You're going to kill me anyway. Deal with them yourselves… if you can."

Keith shook his head. "You can still stop this, Richard. It doesn't have to end this way."

"Keith! Have you gone mad?" Robert snapped from behind him, but Keith kept his attention focused on Richard.

Richard stared at him for a moment, then let out a bitter laugh. "If you think the VSSE is going to take me back after everything, you've taken one too many hits to the head."

"You're not well, Richard. You need help," Keith said softly. "It won't change what happened, but you don't have to die here. Surrender, and come with us."

Richard scoffed. "What makes you think I'd even consider that?"

"Those VSSE agents who spotted you… You could have killed them before they could alert us. Why didn't you?" Keith demanded.

"It wasn't their time to die yet," Richard replied flatly.

"Are you sure about that?" Keith asked softly.

Richard hesitated.

"I think, deep down, the part of you which remembers what it was like to fight for justice didn't want to kill them. The old you isn't completely gone. Please, Richard… don't take this any further."

Richard stood motionless for a moment, then his shoulders began shaking. He slowly sank to his knees, burying his head in his hands.

Cautiously, as though approaching a wounded animal, Keith crept towards Richard, holstering his pistol.

"Keith!" Robert hissed in alarm.

Keith gave him a wordless, pleading look. He instantly recognised it as Keith's "Robert, please let me handle this" look.

Reluctantly, he swallowed his trepidation, keeping his gun trained on Richard as his partner knelt beside the older man.

Carefully, Keith wrapped his arms around the insane, grieving man, holding him gently.

Finally, Richard exhaled, pulling his hands away from his face.

"Alright," he breathed. Slowly, he leaned into Keith's embrace…

…Then Keith stumbled backwards with a strangled cry, eyes wide with horror as he stared at the knife buried in his stomach.

"Keith!" Robert shouted. Instantly, he fired at Richard, just as the older man whipped out a detonator and depressed it.

The bullet struck Richard squarely in the chest, just as a loud click sounded and alarms began blaring.

"What did you do?!" Robert demanded.

Even as he slumped against the wall, blood beginning to drip from his wound, Richard gasped out a mocking laugh. "This place… has a defence system against approaching aircraft. I merely… hijacked it. For my final target. The last one I couldn't wipe out… VSSE Headquarters."

"What?!" Robert ran over to the nearby computer. The radar on the screen showed a missile being launched right at VSSE HQ, in the heart of New York.

"You son of a bitch! Call it off!" Robert frantically scanned the room, trying to find some way to stop the missile.

"I couldn't… even if I wanted to. There's no stopping it." Although his face was twisted in pain, Richard wore a satisfied smirk, and Robert's blood boiled at the sight.

"Robert…" Keith called weakly.

Eyes widening, Robert turned his attention to Keith, running to his partner's side.

Keith's bright blue eyes were rapidly glazing over, his breathing shallow and erratic. Blood was beginning to pool under his body, and Robert knew that attempting to remove the knife would only make it worse.

Crouching down, Robert cradled his partner's body as gently as he could. "I'm here. Save your strength."

"It's… so cold," Keith rasped as a tremor wracked his body.

"Shh. It's alright," Robert softened his voice, doing his best to comfort Keith.

"I'm… sorry." With one final gasp, Keith exhaled wetly and went limp.

Eyes burning with unshed tears, Robert slowly released his partner, palming his eyes shut.

A coughing sound caught his attention.

"You…!" Robert hissed, glaring at Richard venomously.

"Guess… that's it then. I wanted… to save Rachel. But joining her instead… doesn't sound so bad either," Richard laughed weakly, looking old and tired.

"What are you talking about?" Robert spat.

"They were… onto something here. I almost had it… figured out… Not enough… time."

Before Robert could try to get a more coherent answer out of him, Richard's eyes slid shut, and he slumped lifelessly to the ground.

"Damn it!" Robert angrily punched the wall, turning his attention to the computer.

The missile was still headed for New York, and he had no way of stopping it.

He tried to see if he could hack the missile system and cancel the strike, but the computer refused to respond to his attempts at interacting with it.

With a surge of nausea and a scream building in his throat, Robert watched helplessly as the radar tracked the missile's trajectory, all the way to its target.

Upon impact, the screen flared red, then went black.

Burying his head in his hands, Robert screamed.


	7. Resetting the World

**From now on, please assume that my default update speed is supposed to be slow; if I'm suddenly updating rather quickly several chapters in a row this is an exception rather than the norm :P**

* * *

 **SIDESTORY ALERT!**

I'm going to be putting up a new sidestory called Aftermath, showing what happens after the dust settles at the end of each story arc. Don't expect fast updates on it; I won't be uploading new chapters until the relevant story arc in Temporal Fates is finished. Both for the sake of avoiding spoilers, and because it wouldn't make sense without the necessary context.

* * *

Robert didn't remember much more of what happened after that.

He vaguely recalled picking up Keith's body, bringing it outside. He didn't know how long it ended up taking to dig a grave with his bare hands, but he finally finished burying his partner. Without much else to use, Robert placed Keith's pistol at the site as a grave marker.

The other corpses scattered about the building, he left where they were. The cold conditions inside the laboratory would be enough to stop them from rotting horribly, and he couldn't muster up the strength to deal with all of them.

He dragged Richard's body out into the jungle to rot.

At some point, Robert made it off the island, heading back to New York.

He couldn't even get anywhere near the site where Headquarters had been.

The bombed wreckage of destroyed buildings was cordoned off for several streets, flames still rising high into the sky. The authorities were desperately trying to get the situation under control even as panicking civilians hindered their efforts.

VSSE Headquarters was right at the epicentre of the blast.

As far as Robert knew, there were no protocols for the total collapse of the VSSE.

As a VSSE agent, he should have been doing his part to help the authorities.

As a person who had just lost everything, Robert turned and fled, bitter tears silently beginning to flow.

* * *

Without anywhere else to go, Robert returned to the island. Richard's cryptic final words nagged at him. Despite the bitter voice inside his head telling him it didn't matter, since everyone was gone, a small part of him yearned to know what Richard had been talking about.

Finding a dormitory of sorts in the laboratory, Robert took up residence there, grateful to have at least some clean clothes and a place to sleep other than at a computer terminal.

Time seemed to stand still in the building as Robert returned to the room where Keith had died, working on the computer there day after day. It took some doing, but he finally managed to gain access to it and begin searching through the files within.

Understanding what he was reading took longer, but the pieces slowly started to come together.

The laboratory belonged to the research corporation responsible for the disappearances Richard had been sent to investigate on his fatal last assignment. The corporation apparently had rather shady dealings with criminal organisations to fund their research; hence why Richard had been hunting criminals to track down leads on the corporation.

The corporation's actual field of research was where things became interesting. The scientists were apparently researching the space–time continuum. If their reports were to be believed, they had succeeded in opening a crack in reality that allowed people to travel through time.

Of course, they had needed test subjects to experiment with it.

The disappeared villagers were apparently not the first to be abducted. Orphans, runaways, homeless people… Anybody whose disappearance would go unnoticed… They had been quietly taken and brought to the island to be experimented upon. Some of them were injured or cut open before being sent through the portal to see how it would affect their injuries. Countless other gruesome experiments were conducted upon these unwilling time travellers before they made the trip.

According to the reports, the experiments involving sending people forward in time had been successful. The test subjects had reappeared in the same room hours or days later, as they were supposed to. By gauging the subjects' physiological states after reappearing, the scientists theorised that the further a person was sent through time, the more painful the trip became. Sending someone too far through time might thus carry the risk of killing them upon their arrival.

However, experiments with travelling back in time had been far less conducive. The researchers had not encountered any cases of unknown persons appearing in the laboratory, which would indicate that they had been sent back in time.

Sporadic experiments with whatever test subjects they could get their hands on were insufficient for gathering data. The corporation had moved to abducting test subjects in an attempt to conduct a more sizeable experiment.

They had tried all sorts of different things on the abducted villagers. Tracking devices, in hopes that the device's location in the present day would give them an idea where the test subject had landed. Countless other options for tracking the physical location of the test subject to begin figuring out where and when they landed in the past.

The villagers had vanished without a trace regardless, with the tracking methods failing one after the other.

All at once, Robert understood what Richard had been trying to say.

If Richard could use the portal to travel back in time to before his wife's death and stop it from happening…

In the same instant, the answer to his own hopeless situation became clear.

Robert hesitated, doubts swirling about his mind.

The reports had made it quite clear nobody knew what happened to the people who travelled back in time. And he didn't know how far back he could safely go without risking getting himself killed. Yet, sending himself back to just the start of this chain of tragedies would not do much good; short of finding a way to stop Evan from dying during the Terror Bite incident, the entire cycle would just repeat itself.

But what other choice did he have? Stay behind alone in a world where the VSSE had been obliterated? He would rather fall into oblivion than suffer the slow onset of madness from isolation and grief.

5 years. He would send himself back by 5 years. That would give him sufficient buffer time to observe the key players involved in the events of the past several months. Then he could try to influence the situation and prevent it from happening again.

If he succeeded, he would have the time he needed. If he failed to land safely in the past… Well, the world was already doomed. It wouldn't get any worse than it had been before his attempt at time travelling.

Studying the lab reports one last time, Robert made his way to the strange control panel on the other side of the room and activated it. Inputting his destination time, he left the date and month blank, setting the portal to take him to 2009.

The archway opened up, revealing a portal that glowed with an unearthly violet light. Robert peered apprehensively into it, but he couldn't make out what lay within the swirling light.

Swallowing, he gathered up every last shred of his courage and stepped into the portal. The door to the archway slid shut a moment later.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then the light seemed to rush towards him and swallow him up and suddenly he realised he had miscalculated horribly; his molecules were being ripped apart as he dissolved into nothingness until he couldn't even scream for it to stop because his throat was gone and there was nothing but pain pain pain…

The air abruptly slammed back into his lungs. Desperately, he took a deep, shuddering breath, opening his eyes as the wave of agony subsided.

It took a few moments for Robert's disorientation to fade. When it did, he realised he was staring up at a familiar ceiling.

He was lying in bed in his room at VSSE Headquarters.

Staring around his room in bewilderment, it took him a few more minutes to realise that someone was pounding on his door and shouting.

"Hey! Robert! What's going on? Open the door!"

Shakily, he scrambled out of bed, trying to pull himself together.

When he saw who was standing outside, his confusion only deepened.

Keith was staring at him, annoyance and worry warring for attention on his face; but he was alive, not bleeding out after being stabbed in the stomach trying to comfort Richard.

"Keith?" Robert tried to sound nonchalant, but he could hear a tinge of hysteria in his voice.

"What the hell, Robert? I could hear you screaming bloody murder from next door! I thought I was going to have to force my way inside to see if you were dying." Despite Keith's flippant comment, there was an undertone of concern to his words.

 _The same foolish concern which got him killed…_

Shaking off his uneasy thoughts, Robert hurriedly tried to find an explanation to give his partner. "I… It's nothing. I just dropped a glass and freaked out a bit when I stepped on it."

Fortunately, Keith seemed to accept his flimsy excuse.

"Getting clumsy in your old age?" He teased. "Do you need to go to the infirmary?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Robert snapped, trying to cover his unease at seeing Keith alive and well. "It was just the initial shock; I didn't cut myself badly or anything."

"Suit yourself." Keith grinned. "By the way, what happened to being ever vigilant?"

"Excuse me?"

"I know it's our day off, but you look like you just rolled out of bed." Keith gestured at Robert with a smirk. "Thought you usually like to get up early and 'keep your skills sharp in preparation for our next assignment'."

Though Robert knew Keith's somewhat mocking imitation of him was meant fondly, he was already on edge from trying to get his bearings and in no mood to play along.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" He shot Keith an unamused glare.

"Geez, someone's grumpy when they've just woken up." Keith backed off a step, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Fine, I'll leave you be. Just don't start screaming again; you're lucky nobody else was around to hear you."

Shutting the door as Keith finally left, Robert breathed a sigh of relief.

 _What the hell is going on here? Was everything that happened just one long nightmare?_

Heading into his bathroom, he splashed some water on his face, trying to calm his racing heart.

He happened to glance up at the mirror as he did so.

As soon as he caught sight of his reflection, he froze in shock.

Physically, he appeared to be the right age for 2009…

But he was wearing the clothes he had borrowed from the dormitory before using the portal.

 _What the hell…?_

Robert made a beeline for his bedside, scooping up the phone sitting on his nightstand.

A quick glance at the screen confirmed that it was mid–October 2009.

Scrubbing a hand across his face, Robert tried to collect his thoughts.

 _Alright. Let's see. It's 2009. Keith is alive, and Headquarters is still standing. I'm the right age for 2009. But the clothes I'm wearing are from the future I came from. Which means it wasn't just my consciousness that travelled back in time. Maybe… using the portal deaged me, and I physically replaced my younger self at this point in the timeline._

Robert swallowed as the reality of his situation began to properly sink in.

Everyone was alive. The VSSE was still standing strong. Richard Miller hadn't gone insane and tried to destroy everything yet.

He had a chance to save everyone.

Robert felt hot tears of relief beginning to form, but he pressed his lips together firmly, forcing himself not to break down.

He needed a plan. He needed a way to influence what would happen.

He needed to record what he had been through, so that he didn't miss anything that might trip him up afterwards.

Seating himself at his desk, Robert opened up his laptop and began to type.

 _To shape the future, we must learn from the past. This report shall attempt to trace the origins of this entire tragedy, in hopes of preventing it from repeating itself. As far as I can tell, the entire series of events began with the Terror Bite incident, which Agents Giorgio Bruno and Evan Bernard were assigned to handle…_

* * *

 **Incidentally, at one point in TC5, Keith asks Robert what he's planning to do, to which Robert replies he's doing this to "reset the world". That was what gave birth to the idea of him being a time traveller, although that was (obviously) not what he meant, especially since he was talking about his plans for the Zombie Drug :P Still no idea what his motivations were in canon, so I'll stick to my own headcanons until they give us an explanation (if ever).**

 **It'll be a while before we return to Robert's story, by the way. The next couple of chapters are going to follow a few key players who are quite closely entwined with the unfolding events.**


	8. New Arrival

**As mentioned in the previous chapter's author's note, we're going to be taking a bit of a detour from Robert's story. If you recall the framing device of this fic, Keith, Catherine and the rookies are reading Robert's reports on everything that happened up till the events of TC5. The next two chapters are NOT part of Robert's reports, since he's obviously not involved in what's happening here. None of the agents in the present day are reading about this. But it would not feel right to just tell Robert's side of the story and leave out the perspective of some other characters who are pretty important as well. So, you get to learn about some stuff that the agents in the present day don't :P This chapter more or less follows Keith's perspective, and as for the next chapter… Well, you'll see.**

 **A huge thanks to Lilium for helping to vet this chapter :)**

* * *

When Keith Martin was first recruited by the VSSE in 1995, he hadn't known what to expect.

Back then, he had been working in the British SAS, and the VSSE was still a fledgling agency which wasn't particularly well–known.

Keith had been intrigued by the offer and desiring a change of pace, so he agreed to give the VSSE a chance.

Crisis agents hadn't even existed yet at the time: Richard Miller was the agency's only solo operative, while the rest of the agents were regular field agents working relatively normal hours. The agency mostly dealt with reconnaissance and surveillance missions, with the occasional skirmish or so. Situations which had the potential to turn volatile were quietly handled by Richard, who spent his days roaming the country on his own between missions.

Then the Sercia incident had occurred. In the aftermath, the Director had decided to screen candidates to form an elite Crisis Agent division to handle urgent large–scale threats in the future. Richard was a good agent, but he was only one man, and it was becoming clear that the VSSE might need a task force to deal with potentially world–ending crises.

The prototype screening test and subsequent training turned out to be the foundation upon which future Crisis Agents were selected, without needing them to become regular field agents first. But for the time being, the VSSE decided to put their existing field agents through the screening test, to see if there were any viable candidates already within the agency.

Amongst the existing field agents, two of them were deemed to have above–average aptitude scores on the screening test. One of them was Keith, of course.

The other was a straight–laced, by the book ex–SEAL named Robert Baxter.

You would be forgiven for thinking that being British, Keith embodied the usual stereotype of being stuffy and having a stiff upper lip.

In truth, Keith was a daredevil adrenaline junkie through and through, prone to risk–taking and relying on his instincts in combat to guide his actions.

Robert Baxter, on the other hand, prized logic and strategy, preferring to plan out his actions beforehand rather than improvising on the fly. (1)

To say that the two agents seemed ill–matched would be a massive understatement.

However, the Director decided to try pairing them up regardless. While the two agents had potential, neither of them was as skilled as Richard, and it would have been inadvisable to deploy them as solo operatives without someone to watch their back.

The first three months weren't too bad. The agents were split up and sent on long–term undercover assignments to test their abilities and their reconnaissance skills by investigating tipoffs the VSSE was keeping tabs on. (2)

Looking back, Keith found it rather amusing that Robert was sent undercover as a school bus driver. Granted, he had a way with machines, and the VSSE had been receiving some disturbing reports about suspicious activity in the area…

But as Keith had later learned, Robert was a borderline misanthrope. While he would gladly fight tooth and nail to keep the world safe, he was absolutely useless outside of combat. In the aftermath of firefights, Keith often found himself having to take over and handle the panicking civilians and crying children so that Robert didn't inadvertently cause an international incident. It had taken a while before Keith understood that Robert **did** care about protecting the innocent; he just preferred to handle the problem–solving side of things and leave the messy emotional stuff to Keith.

Keith supposed that it was a testament to Robert's skill as an agent that he had been able to maintain his cover despite being a misanthrope forced to deal with hordes of screaming kids every single day for three months.

Keith himself was luckier and was sent undercover as a special effects technician and stunt double in Hollywood. Despite the seemingly flippant nature of his op, Keith was tasked with investigating rumours about an experimental drug which was supposed to be finding its way into the black market. It proved to be an exercise in seeing how well he could hide in plain sight. Naturally, Keith's undercover op had been perfect for an adrenaline junkie like him. It was also pretty useful training for fieldwork, if he ever needed to engage in acrobatics while fighting enemies. (3) He had enjoyed himself immensely and passed with flying colours.

The next three months had been rough.

Granted, Crisis Agent training wasn't easy, but with Keith and Robert's clashing personalities, it escalated from merely challenging to a virtual battlefield. The two agents had been competing fiercely, trying to one–up each other and bickering incessantly. For a time, it had seemed as though they posed more danger to each other than any enemy forces might.

Then a training exercise had turned into a firefight, when they'd somehow found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time and ended up engaging in a shootout with armed hostiles. With an actual life or death situation and the possibility of civilians getting caught in the crossfire, it was as though he and Robert had forgotten they didn't get along. In that moment, all that mattered was doing their job.

In the aftermath of the fight, with the adrenaline still running through their veins, the two of them had shared a moment of solidarity; the first since they'd been thrown together against their will.

Their conflicts hadn't vanished immediately, of course. They still fought with each other and generally got on each other's nerves. But it marked the turning point in their partnership. By the time they were sent to rescue intelligence officer Christy Ryan after her cover was blown, they had learned to use their strengths in tandem to cover ground more quickly. While their squabbling never fully went away, it had long since lost any semblance of animosity and had instead become a form of amicable bickering that almost seemed to express fondness. When Christy became friends with them in the aftermath of the Neodyne incident and later started dating Keith, it seemed as though Robert had found two exceptions to his general dislike for people, though he would never admit it out loud.

Now, Keith wasn't so sure.

Robert had been acting stranger and stranger over the past two weeks. He spent half the time looking at Keith oddly, and the other half the time being even more curt and short–tempered than he usually was. Asking Robert what was wrong nearly resulted in him getting his head bitten off.

Perhaps that was why Keith had volunteered when the Director mentioned needing somebody to show the newest recruit around. Strictly speaking, one of the younger agents, either Alan or Wesley, should have been handling it.

But anything had to be better than sitting in tense silence next to Robert in the office, worrying about his partner's unexplained upsurge in antisocial behaviour.

* * *

The strangest thing about Giorgio Bruno, Keith decided, wasn't the lone earring he sported on his left ear, or even his strange reddish–brown eyes that looked almost orange.

No, the strangest thing about him was his stiff demeanour and overly formal manner of speaking.

"So, where were you posted during training?" Keith asked, trying to make small talk.

A flicker of discomfort flashed across Giorgio's stoic face.

"…A restaurant in Milan, as a chef," he finally replied after a long moment.

"A chef? Are you good at cooking then?"

"I suppose so, sir," Giorgio answered in a neutral tone.

Keith groaned. "Please, don't call me sir. Are you trying to make me feel old? Call me Keith. Or Agent Martin, if you prefer."

"My apologies, Agent Martin."

 _Guess he's not much of a talker._

"Alright, I'll give you the tour. Alan and Wesley were supposed to show you around since you'll be working with them, but they're still out on assignment at the moment." Keith began to lead Giorgio through Headquarters.

"As you probably know, the VSSE has a few divisions. There's us, the Crisis Agents. Since we don't know when we might need to get called in, we live in a Residential Wing connected to the main building; I'll take you over there later. There's the regular field agents, who work normal hours and go home at the end of the work day. Then there's the Intelligence Division. Intelligence officers do reconnaissance and undercover work, and they sometimes work with us as mission control on larger assignments. Don't piss them off if you know what's good for you; they can be pretty scary, and the last thing you want is them making life difficult for you during missions. Finally, there's the Science Department, made up of the Infirmary staff and R&D."

At that moment, they rounded the corner and nearly ran right into another agent.

"Watch where you're going!" Robert snapped.

Keith raised his hands in capitulation, grinning slightly. "Sorry about that. Giorgio, this is Robert. My partner… and our resident grumpy old man."

"Pleased to meet you sir." Giorgio gave Robert a respectful nod.

"Hmph. At least **someone** around here has manners," Robert grumbled, looking slightly less irritated. "Pity Keith isn't half as polite as you, Agent Bruno."

"Yeah, yeah, spare me the lecture." Keith snorted, waving Robert off. The other agent gave him a flat look before continuing down the hallway.

"Right, where were we? Ah yes; aside from the infirmary and offices for each department, there's also a couple of training rooms in HQ for you to hone your skills, and a rec room for you to unwind when you're off duty. We have a cafeteria as well; most people grab lunch there during working hours, though there's some pretty good places to eat near HQ if you get bored of the same food all the time."

Heading down a nearby corridor, Keith led Giorgio into the Residential Wing.

"So, this is where we live. Only Crisis Agents are allowed in here. Well, usually. Agent Miller's wife and my girlfriend live here too; but they're VSSE personnel and we sought permission from the Director first. So no bringing random people in here," Keith joked.

Giorgio just nodded, showing no change in his expression.

Resisting the urge to sigh, Keith continued. "Each floor has four apartments. Agent Miller, Robert, Wesley and I live here on the first floor. You'll be upstairs next door to Alan."

At this, Keith noticed Giorgio looking slightly uncomfortable. "Is something wrong?"

For a moment, Giorgio looked as though he wanted to say something, but he shook his head. "No, it's fine."

Keith briefly wondered what Giorgio was worried about, but he got the feeling that the younger agent didn't want to come across as too difficult or demanding on his first day. (4)

"Alright. The apartment's a basic studio apartment; kitchen, bathroom and one large room with a main area doubling as a bedroom and lounge. Pretty sparsely furnished, but enough to live in. Feel free to spice it up with your own furniture and stuff. The door has an electronic lock; there's an override code, though you probably don't have clearance for that yet. It's mostly in case of an emergency; makes it easier for someone else to check on you if you're needed urgently and not answering your phone for whatever reason."

The agents came to a stop in front of Giorgio's new apartment. "I'll let you get settled in. You'll be meeting Alan and Wesley tomorrow at 10 when the Director briefs you guys on your working arrangements."

"Understood. Thank you, sir," Giorgio replied formally, before disappearing into his room.

With an amused shake of the head, Keith headed back to the main building of Headquarters.

 _I can't begin to imagine how he's going to react to working with Alan and Wesley. He's just as antisocial as Robert._

* * *

 **Notes:**

1\. I know that in TC5, Keith comments "You never were patient", but that doesn't fit with the whole "manipulative chessmaster" thing Robert has going for him. Even in canon when we don't have his motivations, the fact that he managed to frame Keith for treason and the murder of his own girlfriend, and was then assigned to hunt Keith down suggests he's fairly good at strategy.

Not to mention, he's the one who expresses caution about jumping the conveyor belt to get across in TC5 (And even knowing his true motivations, it can't be that he wants to slow the agents down because he **needs** to get to the case before Keith unlocks it). My interpretation of "You never were patient" is that it refers to his personality rather than his combat style. As in "you have no subtlety or patience when dealing with other people" (something which I previously mentioned in Chapter 2 of The Case Opened).

2\. Due to the way the VSSE works in this fic, all the protagonists from canon are full–time agents who live in HQ while off–duty (as you no doubt deduced from the previous timeline). So, instead of them having civilian occupations as cover stories/when they're off–duty, I decided to make those occupations their cover story for an undercover assignment during their initial training to become Crisis Agents.

3\. This is my headcanon for Keith's parkour antics during his boss fight in TC5, and I'm sticking to it.

4\. You might or might not be able to guess what Giorgio's problem is. Suffice to say, he would probably prefer not to have a direct neighbour beside his apartment.


	9. An Experiment in Friendship

**Credit goes to Lilium, who was a massive help with revising my (ridiculously complicated and clunky) original draft into something actually readable. Without her, this chapter would either be: A) Indefinitely postponed, or B) An absolutely awful mess.**

 **By the way, I went back and fiddled with Chapter 2 a bit. Nothing too major, just a few lines that didn't quite fit now that I'm actually trying to write Christy's murder.**

* * *

As Keith had predicted, Giorgio's lack of social skills did not make him a rousing success at teamwork.

For the next year and a half, he remained the youngest — and most enigmatic — of the Crisis Agents.

Then Evan Bernard joined the VSSE.

* * *

 **March 2011**

Evan's cheerful nature and endless optimism had always been his biggest strength.

As the VSSE's newest recruit, he was assigned to team up with Alan and Wesley on missions. The three of them hit it off almost immediately, and Evan easily integrated himself into the dynamic that Alan and Wesley shared. Between the three of them, they had a lot of fun on missions and often hung out off duty as well.

However, whenever he hung out with them, something was always bothering him. Though Evan had slowly become familiar with quite a few of the other VSSE personnel, he sometimes caught sight of a lone agent who never seemed to speak to anyone. Whenever they ate in the cafeteria, the man was always at a table by himself. No matter how crowded it was, nobody ever tried to sit with him. However, Evan occasionally caught sight of the man watching them, almost as though he wanted to join their conversation. As soon as Evan noticed him, he'd turn away, pretending he hadn't been looking at them.

After a few weeks, it nagged at Evan enough for him to finally ask Alan and Wesley about the mysterious figure.

"Who's that guy over there?"

"Hm?" Wesley glanced over. "Oh. That's Giorgio. Like you, he worked with us back when he first joined up in 2009."

"Who's his partner now?" Evan asked, craning his neck curiously for a better look.

"He doesn't have one. The VSSE assigned him an intelligence officer as a handler instead."

"Is he that good an agent?" Evan raised an eyebrow, sounding impressed.

Wesley barked out a laugh. "Well, as a Crisis Agent his skills are beyond reproach. But it's more a case of him being prickly and really bad with people. He usually keeps to himself and barely interacts with anyone, except his handler Sarah Martin. (1) And Alan, on account of them being neighbours."

"Wait, what?" Evan was surprised. "How have I never seen him around the apartments before? I'm on the same floor as Alan."

"I'm not surprised," Alan replied dryly. "Giorgio's been here about a year and a half, but he's still a complete enigma. The only reason I interact with him at all is because I check on him when he has nightmares so he doesn't wake the whole building screaming."

"Nightmares?" Evan's brow furrowed.

Alan shrugged. "It doesn't happen all the time, or someone would have complained by now. General consensus is that he doesn't have a very happy past, but beyond that it's all just rumours. The VSSE offered him professional help at first, on account of both his nightmares and his issues with people. Nobody's sure what really happened, but the psychologist lasted only one session before saying she couldn't work with Giorgio."

Evan fell silent, gazing across the cafeteria at Giorgio.

"He looks lonely."

Wesley gave him a look. "I'd stay away from him if I were you. Giorgio really doesn't appreciate people trying to befriend him. That's why we eventually stopped working with him; we tried being friendly with him, but he kept being aloof and formal with us and avoiding us off duty. Though he seemed to dislike Alan less than everyone else at one point."

Evan blinked. "What happened?"

Alan hesitated. After a moment, he sighed. "Giorgio… Well, he's a hard person to read. But after working together for a while, I noticed he'd started defrosting ever so slightly when it was just us. Sometimes, during quiet moments in between bouts of actions, I'd see him looking at me, as though he wanted to say something. He'd lapse back into his stoic mask when he realised I was watching, but there was a hint of softness in his eyes that didn't quite go away."

"I didn't think I was wrong in feeling as though there was a spark slowly developing between us. Eventually I tried to…" Alan's eyes flicked to Giorgio for a moment. "…get closer to him. He flat out told me he wasn't interested in other people, platonically or otherwise. Considering he reacted the same way to a few female officers who expressed an interest in him, I don't think it was just a case of him not being interested in men."

"Anyway, don't concern yourself with him. He doesn't want to be helped, and I don't want you getting hurt. Just leave him be," Wesley warned Evan.

The younger agent frowned unhappily but said nothing.

* * *

Against all logic, Evan did not stay away from Giorgio.

Instead, he began making friendly overtures towards Giorgio whenever he ran into the older agent around Headquarters.

Predictably, Giorgio coldly rebuffed his attempts, snapping at Evan for his persistence.

Evan sometimes looked hurt at Giorgio's acerbic comments, but he continued to reach out to Giorgio no matter how the latter tried to drive him away.

Alan and Wesley were confounded by Evan's efforts. Wesley, in particular, had become rather protective of Evan. Seeing Giorgio's cruel response to Evan's attempts at being friendly left him infuriated at both Giorgio and Evan.

"Are you a masochist or something? How long are you going to keep this up before you realise it's a lost cause?"

"He doesn't look very happy being alone though," Evan insisted. "He looks sad when he thinks nobody's looking."

"Regardless, Giorgio is too stubborn to let himself get close to anyone. You can't save everyone, Evan," Alan said quietly.

Evan shook his head stubbornly. "I'm not giving up on him. Nobody should have to be lonely like that."

* * *

The Director soon took notice of Evan's futile attempts at befriending Giorgio and decided to take a gamble. After six months of Evan working with Alan and Wesley, he called both Giorgio and Evan into his office for a meeting.

* * *

 **August 2011**

"Thank you for coming so quickly, gentleman." The Director looked at the agents seated across from him.

"I'll cut to the chase. Agent Bernard, I've had favourable reports on your field performance so far. How would you feel about being assigned as Agent Bruno's field partner on a trial basis?"

"What?! Sir, with all due respect…" Giorgio began.

"Agent Bruno, this is not up for discussion," the Director cut him off sternly. "Although you have a favourable track record on missions, your current arrangement was never meant to be permanent. There's a reason we send Crisis Agents out in pairs; having a partner watching your back is always safer."

Giorgio's lips thinned, and he looked away mutinously. Ignoring him, the Director raised an eyebrow at Evan.

"I wouldn't mind giving it a try," Evan replied breezily, heedless of Giorgio glaring at him.

"Very well, then. I'll inform Officer Martin. Good luck, gentlemen."

Without a word, Giorgio stood up and left the office.

 _Just perfect. I have to work with an over–enthusiastic kid. What the hell did I do to deserve this?_

* * *

Giorgio and Evan's partnership got off to a rocky start, to say the least. Giorgio was coldly professional on duty, only speaking to Evan as necessary and continuing to avoid him off duty.

On Evan's part, he found himself struggling to keep up with Giorgio. Although Alan and Wesley were good agents, Giorgio threw himself into his work with a raw intensity that the older agents lacked. Evan soon found himself spending more and more time in the training rooms trying to improve his skills and catch up with Giorgio.

At first, it seemed as though Evan's training had little effect on both his skills and his standing with his partner. Giorgio's performance continued to outshine Evan's greatly, and the man himself still regarded Evan with unimpressed disdain.

Then one day, six weeks into their partnership, the status quo changed…

* * *

 **October 2011**

It had been a long day, and they were finally on their way back to HQ. Giorgio was sitting in the window seat, paying no heed to Evan.

Evan knew better than to say anything. Giorgio's usual dislike for small talk ramped up in the aftermath of missions; he preferred to be left to his own thoughts. Having decided to pick his battles wisely, Evan had decided to not antagonise his already prickly partner any further and simply grant him the silence he desired.

"You were missing more shots than usual today." A somewhat bored voice caught Evan's attention.

Turning in surprise, Evan found Giorgio glancing at him. It was the first time he could remember Giorgio showing any interest in starting a conversation with him.

"I… Sorry." Evan dropped his gaze, not knowing what to say in response.

There was a pause, then Giorgio's voice grew sharper, losing its disinterested tone. "Why were you trying to fire using only one hand today? It ended up throwing off your aim more often than not."

Evan felt his cheeks reddening slightly. "All the other agents can fire onehanded. I just… I wanted to try to learn to do the same."

"Trying out new techniques in the middle of combat is hardly an ideal way to learn," Giorgio replied coldly. "You'll end up putting yourself and your allies in danger."

"…Right. I understand." Now Evan's cheeks were definitely burning at Giorgio's impromptu lecture.

After a moment, Giorgio sighed.

"That said, it is admirable that you're trying to improve. But during missions, it's safer to stick to what you know. Keep practicing off duty like you've been doing, and only try it out once you're confident that you can still aim accurately with one hand."

Though the words were clinical, Giorgio's tone sounded almost gentle, unlike his usual aloof manner of speaking.

Evan's eyes widened. "You… You noticed?"

"I'm not blind, Evan," Giorgio replied dryly, almost sounding amused. "You've been putting in a lot of effort honing your skills recently. Perhaps you're not quite as hopeless as your lack of experience would suggest. Just don't try so hard to emulate the rest of us; you'll get better over time, and trying to force yourself to match our skill levels right now is only going to end in tears."

Although Giorgio's backhanded compliment had been rather rude, Evan couldn't help but break into a smile. Given his prickly nature, Giorgio was probably not used to giving compliments. Evan understood what Giorgio was trying to say regardless and appreciated the intended sentiment behind his words.

"I guess you're not as cold as you pretend to be, Gi," he replied teasingly.

Giorgio raised an eyebrow at him, looking unimpressed. "Gi?"

"It's just a nickname. Don't tell me you've never had one before?" Evan grinned at the look on his partner's face.

Rolling his eyes, Giorgio returned his attention to the window and went back to ignoring Evan.

Despite Giorgio's response, Evan had a feeling that his partner wasn't quite as annoyed as he was pretending to be.

Deciding to count this as a win for today, Evan left Giorgio to his thoughts.

* * *

After that day, Giorgio seemed to warm up to Evan slightly. Though he maintained his cold tone when conversing with Evan, he began to give Evan feedback on his performance during missions and even offered to help him with his training. Giorgio proved to be a surprisingly good teacher, and Evan soon found himself improving with Giorgio's help.

However, Giorgio continued to vanish off duty and keep to himself. Try as he might, Evan couldn't persuade Giorgio to spend time with him unless they were doing something work–related.

Alan and Wesley were nonetheless surprised when they heard about Evan's progress in being Giorgio's partner. Considering how Giorgio had been vehemently opposed to working with other people, that he was actually willing to extend a helping hand to Evan came as a huge surprise.

On his part, Evan's gratitude towards Giorgio for training him only strengthened his resolve to befriend Giorgio. Although Giorgio did not seem receptive towards his efforts, Evan was determined to find a way. For the moment, his gradual improvement as a Crisis Agent seemed to be the only opening he had by which he could try to bond with Giorgio; until he found another way, he would keep trying to earn Giorgio's trust professionally first.

Another month passed, and Giorgio continued to be an enigma to his younger partner…

Until one fateful mission gave Evan a glimpse at a different side of Giorgio.

* * *

 **November 2011**

Giorgio slammed the door to their motel room as he entered. Although his eyes usually looked cold and dispassionate, they burned with furious anger as he glared at nothing in particular, lips pressed into a thin line.

Evan winced silently.

Their latest mission to shut down a human trafficking ring had ended tragically. The ringleaders they were after had escaped, but not before slaughtering most of the women and children they had taken captive in an attempt to cover their tracks.

Evan recalled how one of the survivors had been a terrified 10–year–old girl, whose mother had shielded her during the massacre and secured the girl's survival at the cost of her own life.

To his surprise, his aloof partner had spoken to the girl very gently and coaxed her to trust them. There had been an almost tender look in Giorgio's eyes that Evan had never seen before, and he seemed to have unconsciously taken on a protective stance while talking to the girl. Despite the situation, Evan caught himself thinking it was rather sweet to see that his usually cold partner had a soft spot for kids.

It still didn't make up for the sting of failure at their inability to save everyone.

They spent the rest of the evening in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

At length, Giorgio quietly slipped into his bed, the brooding expression still lingering on his face.

Evan followed suit soon after.

* * *

"No…"

A frightened voice slowly woke Evan from an uneasy sleep.

 _What…?_

He rubbed his eyes tiredly, wondering if he'd imagined it.

"I'm so sorry… I should have…"

It took him a moment to realise that there was only one other person in the room, and thus only one person it could be.

 _Giorgio?_

Eyes widening slightly as his brain began to properly wake up, Evan sat up and turned to look at his partner.

Giorgio was stirring restlessly, face twisted in agony. Tears were rolling down his cheeks as he let out a soft whimper, sounding nothing like his usual self.

"Please, I tried… I didn't want…"

Evan had heard about Giorgio's nightmares from Alan and Wesley. He had even heard Giorgio having nightmares from down the hall occasionally.

However, he had never actually seen his partner in the throes of a nightmare before.

It was easy to forget that Giorgio was only a few years older than him. His aloof demeanour usually made him seem older than he actually was.

In the darkness of the room, with his icy mask stripped away by the demons plaguing his mind, Giorgio looked like a frightened child.

"NO! Stop! Please, I'm sorry…!"

Evan couldn't bear to watch him suffer any longer. Slipping out of bed, he made his way to Giorgio's bedside and reached for his partner, intending to shake him awake.

"Gi, wake up."

His hand brushed against Giorgio's arm.

Giorgio's eyes snapped open.

The next thing Evan knew, something collided painfully with him and sent him crashing backwards to the floor, pinning him down. Evan let out a startled cry, but before he could try to twist away there were hands around his throat, and he found himself staring up at Giorgio's furious, unseeing eyes.

"Gi… please…" Evan choked out, black spots beginning to dance at the edges of his vision.

After an agonisingly long moment, Giorgio blinked, his eyes focusing on Evan.

Instantly, he released his grip on Evan's neck, stumbling backwards with a look of horror.

Coughing, Evan slowly sat up, inhaling with a shaky gasp.

"G… Gi…" He rasped.

For a moment, Giorgio looked as though he wanted to say something.

Then his face clouded over, and with hurried steps he turned and left the room, shutting the door behind him with a firm click.

Rubbing his sore neck, Evan let out a breath, briefly contemplating going after Giorgio.

The horrified look on Giorgio's face when he realised what he was doing flashed across Evan's mind.

Sensing that Giorgio probably wouldn't react well to his presence at the moment, Evan decided to give his partner some space and speak to him when he returned to the room.

Sleep evaded him for the rest of the night.

As did Giorgio.

When his partner finally returned to their motel room in the early hours of the morning, he refused to look at Evan.

"Gi…" Evan began.

Giorgio cut him off before he could continue. "Let's go."

Without waiting for an answer, he left the room.

Biting back a sigh, Evan followed his partner out, hoping he would be able to pin Giorgio down for long enough to talk to him.

* * *

 **VSSE Director's Office**

As Giorgio finished reporting the outcome of their mission, Evan glanced at him. Giorgio had resisted Evan's attempts to speak to him on the way back, taking a seat far away from Evan on the plane and pretending to be asleep.

At the moment, although he had never been the most expressive person around, Giorgio's stoic mask was fixed more firmly in place than Evan had ever seen. His voice was devoid of emotion, as though he was reciting a shopping list rather than delivering a mission report.

The Director listened calmly to Giorgio's report. Though he had clearly noticed the marks on Evan's neck, he said nothing about them. Once Giorgio had finished, he expressed disappointment at the mission's less than satisfactory result but nonetheless commended the agents on rescuing the surviving captives.

As soon as they were dismissed, Giorgio wordlessly got up and left the office.

Evan hurried after him. "Gi, wait!"

Catching up to his partner, he placed a hand on Giorgio's shoulder. Immediately, Giorgio shoved him away, whirling around with a furious glare.

"Don't touch me!" He snapped. "Or have you forgotten what happened the last time you tried that?"

Before Evan could respond, Giorgio yanked his hand away as though he had been burned, vanishing around the corner.

* * *

 **VSSE Rec Room**

Despite Evan's attempts at denying it, Alan and Wesley had quickly guessed that Giorgio was responsible for the rapidly darkening bruises on his neck. Shocked and worried, they proceeded to interrogate him about his injury.

With a sigh, Evan recounted what had happened the previous night. When he finished, Alan winced sympathetically.

"Yeah, touching Giorgio when he's having a nightmare is usually a bad idea. There's always a chance he'll end up lashing out at you while still asleep."

"What else was I supposed to do?" Evan asked defensively. "I couldn't just leave him to suffer like that."

"Literally anything else," Alan said flatly. "Call his name repeatedly, toss a cushion or something else soft at him, even dump water on him… Shaking him should be your last resort."

"That sounds unpleasant though. I just…" Evan bit his lip. "I don't know, when I saw him like that… I couldn't help but want to comfort him."

"Giorgio hates being caught in a vulnerable state," Wesley warned him. "He's not going to appreciate you trying to comfort him when he's upset."

"Yeah, I kinda guessed that." Evan let out a frustrated huff. "He vanished for the rest of the night, and he's been avoiding me all day. I wanted to tell him I don't blame him, but he won't stay long enough to listen."

"If I were you, I'd leave him alone," Alan advised. "Trying to talk to him when he's in this sort of mood is just going to end with you getting your head bitten off."

"He can't keep ignoring me forever," Evan replied. "Once he's calmed down a bit, I'll try talking to him again."

* * *

Over the next week, Giorgio did an impressive job of avoiding Evan around Headquarters. Anybody else foolish enough to attempt to speak to Giorgio was treated to the prickly agent giving them a vicious tongue–lashing.

As the week wore on, doubts began to creep into Evan's mind. He found himself wondering if this would be the end to not only his attempts at befriending Giorgio, but also their partnership.

They hadn't been sent out on any more assignments yet, but Evan couldn't imagine trying to work alongside Giorgio with the current state of things. Would Giorgio be able to put aside his shame and guilt to cooperate with Evan so they could do their jobs? Or would he continue to ignore Evan even in battle, leaving them struggling to cope with barely any teamwork between them?

* * *

 **One week later**

Evan hadn't thought it was possible, but this mission was turning into even more of a disaster than their last one.

Despite their strained working relationship, Giorgio and Evan had been sent out on an urgent mission. As Evan had feared, Giorgio continued to give him the cold shoulder throughout the mission, and their performance was suffering as a result.

At present, they were in the middle of a firefight with the terrorist they had been hunting. With their teamwork at an all–time low, they found themselves fighting without even a semblance of strategy, each trying to take down the terrorist without the other's help.

Regarding Giorgio as the bigger threat, the terrorist kept his attention focused on the older agent, mostly ignoring Evan. Though Giorgio was holding his ground fairly well, he was visibly beginning to tire under the terrorist's relentless assault.

Seizing his chance, Evan tried to rush the terrorist while he was distracted by Giorgio, firing rapidly at him.

Unfortunately, the terrorist immediately whipped around and began firing back. Before Evan could take cover, he felt an explosion of pain in his chest.

"EVAN!"

A small voice at the back of Evan's mind noted with bitter amusement that Giorgio had finally stopped ignoring him.

Then the darkness swallowed him.

* * *

Giorgio sat by his partner's bedside, staring at his prone form. He had never seen Evan so still, so lifeless before.

 _What have I done?_

After Evan was shot, Giorgio had redoubled his efforts with a sudden burst of energy, taking down the terrorist with the ferocity of a wild beast. He had left the local authorities to handle the aftermath while he rushed Evan to the nearest hospital.

Silent tears began to flow as guilt struck him like a knife to the heart.

 _If it weren't for that fateful night…_

He had been so ashamed of letting his stoic mask slip in front of Evan. Worse still, he had inadvertently attacked Evan and nearly strangled him.

As a result, Giorgio had fallen back on his old failsafe; keep people away, and nobody will get hurt. Giorgio wouldn't have to worry about Evan realising how pathetic he was and treating him with that awful pity he hated. And Evan wouldn't have to worry about Giorgio hurting him again.

However, his attempts to keep Evan safe by pushing him away had only thrown his partner headlong into danger. If he hadn't been ignoring Evan, they could have come up with a better plan to take on the terrorist.

Instead, Evan had been left to fend for himself, and now he was even more badly hurt.

 _He might die. And it'll be my fault._

Though he had been trying his best not to disturb Evan, Giorgio let out a quiet sob.

"Giorgio?" A weak voice caught his attention. Though Evan's eyes were barely open, he was blinking at Giorgio in confusion. Absently, Giorgio registered the lack of his usual nickname.

"E–Evan…" He breathed, a surge of relief sweeping through him.

"Are you crying?" Evan asked in disbelief.

Giorgio pressed his lips together, trying to stem the tide of tears. It was like a dam had burst, and all the shame and guilt he'd been carrying around came pouring out of him all at once.

"What's the matter?" Evan let out a sad laugh. "It's not like you to get so upset, especially over someone you don't care about."

"How can you say that?!" Giorgio shouted, sending his chair crashing to the ground as he jumped to his feet. "You're my partner! If you'd died, I…"

The agents stared at each other for a long moment. Evan looked taken aback by Giorgio's heated response. Slowly, Giorgio righted the chair and settled back into his seat, roughly wiping away his tears.

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Giorgio finally sighed and began to speak.

"I was born into the mafia," he said quietly, not looking at Evan.

"When I was 10, my family was attacked by a rival family. I was the only survivor." The words were mechanical, utterly devoid of emotion. Giorgio's eyes were unfocused, as though he was gazing into the distant past.

Evan froze, eyes widening. Suddenly, the pieces began to fall into place. Giorgio's refusal to get close to anyone… The stoic mask he wore like a second skin… His nightmares…

Thinking back to last week's incident, Giorgio's uncharacteristic gentleness towards the young girl suddenly made sense. Considering her situation, he must have seen her as a haunting reflection of his younger self.

All this time, Giorgio's aloof demeanour had been a defence mechanism, protecting the terrified child inside him still crying for his family.

It was no wonder Giorgio stayed away from people. Having lost everyone he loved once, the thought of opening himself up again must have seemed inconceivable. Letting himself care for anyone only brought the risk of having them ripped away from him and shattering what was left of his already damaged heart.

Slowly, Evan reached out and took Giorgio's hand, giving it a squeeze. The older agent tensed slightly but didn't pull away.

"I'm here, Gi. No matter what happens or how much you try to push me away, I'm not going anywhere."

"You shouldn't make promises you can't keep, Evan," Giorgio replied bitterly.

Evan gazed back at him, firm and unwavering. "I don't."

Giorgio swallowed nervously. Even as Evan's matter–of–fact response filled him with an unexpected warmth, his mind was screaming at him to pull away now, to put his walls back up before it was too late.

"How can you say that after I hurt you?" Giorgio asked softly. His eyes slid from Evan's bandages to the still–healing marks on his neck.

Evan was silent for a moment.

"You're right. You did hurt me," he finally answered. Giorgio winced, but before he could say anything Evan continued.

"You tried to shut me out. You wouldn't talk to me, you wouldn't even look at me… Do you have any idea how worried I was?"

Giorgio's eyes went wide. That was not what he had been expecting.

"I attacked you! I could have killed you!" Giorgio yanked his hand out of Evan's grip, gesturing angrily at the latter's neck.

"It was an accident," Evan insisted. "You didn't know what you were doing. I don't blame you for what happened; I should have been more careful."

"And if it happens again? What if I don't stop myself in time?" Giorgio looked away, feeling sick. "It's not safe for you to be around me."

"Gi. Stop. Listen to me." Evan grabbed hold of Giorgio's hand, stilling his frantic movements.

"I care about you. I wish I didn't have to watch you suffer alone. Please… let me help you."

His pale blue eyes seemed to look right through Giorgio, and the older agent found he couldn't look away.

"Why?"

"Because you're my friend," Evan said firmly.

 _Despite how awful I've been to him, he still thinks of me as a friend?_

Giorgio remained silent, unsure of how to respond to this declaration.

Exhausted from the conversation and his injuries, Evan's eyes slowly slid shut.

As he drifted off, he thought he felt Giorgio gently squeezing his hand.

* * *

After that, things slowly began to change.

Though Giorgio was still uncomfortable letting himself be vulnerable around others, he tentatively began to drop his guard around Evan. Gradually, he started to act more naturally instead of behaving like an emotionless robot all the time. Where he would previously have ignored Evan's antics, Giorgio began to occasionally engage in sarcastic banter with his partner in between bouts of action during missions.

As Giorgio slowly opened up, Evan began to see the human hiding behind his partner's professional mask. The more he learned, the more surprised he was.

On duty, Giorgio was intensely professional. He conducted missions with clinical precision and was meticulous about filing reports and paperwork afterwards. Often, he ended up staying late after office hours to ensure that he was able to satisfactorily complete his work. When not working in the office, Giorgio was often in the training rooms instead, honing his deadly aim and keeping his combat skills sharp.

Off duty, Giorgio was allergic to mornings and spent most of his free time sleeping — part of the reason Evan hadn't seen him around much outside of assignments. Evan had previously assumed Giorgio had been pretending to sleep whenever they were on their way to and from missions to avoid talking to him. Now, he realised that Giorgio really had been asleep, most of the time.

With this new insight, Evan began to notice subtle nuances to Giorgio's moods that he had previously missed. Though it was difficult to tell due to his general prickliness, Giorgio tended to be even more irritable than usual in the mornings before they left for missions.

Thereafter, Evan quietly began bringing a cup of black coffee with him to briefings along with his own coffee.

It took a while longer to persuade Giorgio to begin opening up to other people as well, but he slowly came around to the idea.

* * *

 **December 2011**

Paperwork was always the most annoying part of their job. Letting out a sigh, Evan tried to force himself to focus.

"Would you… like to grab lunch after this?" A hesitant voice provided a much welcome interruption.

A small grin lit up Evan's face. Though it didn't seem like much, Giorgio taking the initiative to ask Evan to hang out was already huge progress.

Still…

"Sorry, Gi. I've already made plans with Alan and Wesley," he said apologetically.

A flicker of regret flashed across Giorgio's face before he hid it behind his impassive mask.

Impulsively, Evan added, "Want to join us?"

Giorgio looked startled at the suggestion. "I… It's fine, I don't think that would be a good idea."

"Don't be ridiculous, I'm sure they won't mind," Evan snorted.

"Mind what?"

Turning, the partners saw Alan and Wesley standing at the entrance of the office.

"Are you done pretending to do your paperwork yet?" Alan grinned at Evan.

"I'm too hungry to think," Evan laughed. "Hey, is it alright if Gi joins us?"

The older agents looked at Giorgio in surprise, causing him to look away uncomfortably.

Wesley shrugged. "Sure, if he wants to come along why not."

Despite his lukewarm response, there was a small smile tugging at his lips.

"It's fine really, I don't want to impose…" Giorgio insisted.

"The only way you'd be imposing is if we stay here and keep arguing about this," Alan said dryly. "Can we go now? I'm starving."

Despite his lingering trepidation, Giorgio found himself following the other agents out of the office.

* * *

That first lunch had been rather awkward, to say the least. Giorgio had been hesitant and unsure around the older agents, especially since he'd rebuffed their previous attempts at befriending him.

However, Evan's cheerful nonchalance about the situation had helped to ease the tension. By the end of lunch, Alan and Wesley had become cautiously friendly towards Giorgio, who had slowly begun to unbend as the older agents failed to treat him with the disdain he'd expected.

Gradually, Giorgio began to join in whenever Evan hung out with the older agents. Though he was often quiet, he revealed himself to have a surprisingly wicked sense of humour at times. Soon, it wasn't uncommon to find Giorgio chatting amicably with his friends or even napping peacefully nearby while they teasingly joked about his tendency to fall asleep at the drop of a hat.

Time slipped by, and soon it had been six months since Giorgio and Evan started working together. The Director sent for them again, separately this time.

* * *

 **February 2012**

As Giorgio entered the Director's office, he felt a small twinge of regret.

Although he hadn't wanted a partner at first, Evan had grown on Giorgio, becoming a solid partner he could rely on both on and off duty. In spite of himself, Giorgio found that Evan had become an irreplaceable part of his life.

He knew it couldn't last though. Their partnership had been on a trial basis, and he had no illusions that Evan would prefer working with him over his previous assignment working with Alan and Wesley.

While Giorgio had originally been looking forward to being a solo operative again, the idea somehow didn't seem as appealing as it had once been.

"Agent Bruno." The Director acknowledged him with a nod. "Having worked with Agent Bernard for six months, what do you think of him as a partner?"

Giorgio swallowed, steeling himself. "Evan is… still inexperienced, but he has been improving greatly. He has potential, and I'm sure he'll do well no matter who he's assigned to work with."

The Director raised an eyebrow. "Is there some reason he shouldn't be working with you?"

"Sorry?" Giorgio blinked, thinking he'd misheard the Director.

"Agent Bernard has been quite enthusiastic about wanting to make your partnership official, unless you have any objections."

"I… With respect, sir, I'm hardly the easiest person to work with," Giorgio pointed out.

"I'm well aware of that," the Director responded dryly. "However, Agent Bernard was firm in his assessment that he considers you a partner he trusts to have his back."

Giorgio was silent for a moment. He couldn't understand how Evan still wanted to stay with him, even after seeing him at his worst.

"Well…" Giorgio hesitated. "If he's sure, then… I wouldn't be opposed to the idea."

* * *

Evan was waiting outside impatiently when Giorgio exited the Director's office.

"So, what's the verdict?" Despite his nonchalant words, there was a hint of nervousness in Evan's voice.

Giorgio gave him a long look.

"…You might regret your decision, Evan," he said at last.

Evan immediately broke out into a wide grin. "Gi, trust me when I say that's not possible."

"There's a lot you still don't know about me," Giorgio warned.

"And I'll be looking forward to learning about it in time," Evan replied teasingly.

In spite of his lingering doubts, Giorgio found himself caught up in Evan's infectious enthusiasm, returning his partner's grin with a small smile of his own.

For the first time, the prospect of getting closer to someone didn't seem as daunting as it usually was.

* * *

 **Notes:**

1\. I've never understood this. As far as I can tell, Sarah Martin (from the mobile–only Time Crisis 2nd Strike) isn't actually related to Keith. You'd think they'd have picked literally any other surname instead of using the surname of an existing character.


	10. The Slow Descent

**And we're back to Robert's story. Mind you, these are probably not ALL the reports he wrote. Robert most likely kept more frequent and detailed reports than just these, all of which the agents are reading in the present day. But we're only seeing the ones which are relevant to us :P**

 **My apologies for taking so long; work has been rather hectic recently. A huge thanks to Lilium for vetting this chapter. Also, a "thanks" to Rainbow Monocerus, who inspired me to start planning a Time Crisis High School AU and ended up thoroughly distracting me from writing Christy's murder -_- Thanks a lot :P**

* * *

 **October 2009**

 _Agent Bruno joined the VSSE today. I'd almost forgotten how much more aloof he was when he first joined. Bruno has never been the warmest person, but he's practically an emotionless robot right now compared to how he was before the incident which killed Agent Bernard._

 _To be honest, he seems a lot more professional in this state. While he seemed happier after Bernard began to befriend him, he ended up losing some of his professionalism in the process of opening up to the other agents. By the time of the Terror Bite incident, Bruno had become somewhat less serious than he originally was, though thankfully not to the extent of some of the clowns who work here. I can only hope that things play out the same way as they did last time, and he doesn't end up being prematurely corrupted by Agents Lambert and Dunaway in this timeline._

* * *

 **December 2009**

 _It's taken a while, but I've managed to get back into the swing of working in sync with Keith. He's younger and more inexperienced than I'm accustomed to, and I have to consciously hold myself back so that it isn't too obvious I'm fighting more skilfully than I should be._

 _Still, he's competent enough, though I wish he wouldn't rely on his instincts so much during firefights. One wrong judgement is all it takes for disaster to strike. We're supposed to be protecting people, not playing with our enemies. It's better to act strategically than rush to engage opponents and trust your instincts to guide you through a hail of bullets._

 _Unfortunately, with the number of assignments we've had over the years, I find that I cannot recall the details aside from the larger missions, such as the Terror Bite incident. It's a pity; having foreknowledge about impending conflicts might help us to prevent them from ever occurring. But I suppose it would be impractical to expect anyone to memorise every assignment they've ever worked on._

* * *

 **February 2010**

 _Perhaps it's the chaos of the past several months before I travelled back in time, but I'd forgotten how illogical Keith can be sometimes. It's something I should be used to by now, but somehow it feels more annoying than I remember it being…_

"I can't believe the enemy decided to start opening fire in a square full of civilians," Keith complained.

"I can't believe none of them had the common sense to get out of the way," Robert retorted. "Why the hell would you just stand there and freak out with some maniac shooting up the place?"

Keith gave Robert a disapproving look. "They were frightened. Not everyone is used to dealing with this sort of thing on a daily basis."

"We almost let the guy get away because there were people in the way!" Robert threw his hands up in exasperation.

"What did you want me to do, fire back with them still standing there?" Keith shot back sarcastically.

"If that arms dealer had escaped, even more people would have been in danger!"

"But he didn't," Keith replied. "Look, Robert… I know you're frustrated, but everything turned out fine. It sucks that the bad guys are willing to use innocent people as meat shields, but that's why we're here: To keep the world safe from assholes like them."

 _Or maybe, if we didn't have to waste time protecting idiots too weak to protect themselves, we'd have better luck keeping the world safe._

Robert stayed silent.

Taking his lack of response as grudging agreement, Keith changed the subject. "Want to grab lunch? There's a new cafe a few blocks away that Christy's interested in checking out."

 _Flames rising high into the sky…_

 _The burned–out wreckage of destroyed buildings, with VSSE HQ at the centre of the blast zone…_

 _Frantically scanning the crowd for other survivors and finding nothing but terrified civilians, begging for someone to help them…_

With a vicious shake of his head, Robert shoved the memories aside.

"I'll pass," he muttered. "I still have paperwork to do."

Keith grinned with fond exasperation. "Oh come on, that can wait! You're way too serious sometimes!"

Robert recognised this as the familiar banter he and Keith always engaged in. He would start by making some token protest about having work to do, but would eventually let Keith and Christy convince him to let loose for a while. Well, as much as he ever let loose anyway. Usually, he would pretend to be more annoyed than he really was, even though all three of them knew Robert was grudgingly appreciative that Keith and Christy cared about his wellbeing.

This time, however, Robert wasn't in the mood to play along.

"I said no, alright?" He snapped. Keith looked taken aback. Robert felt a slight pang of guilt, but brushed it aside.

"Look, I just… I'm not in the mood today. I'd rather get some work done."

Keith looked at him for a long moment.

"…Alright, if you're sure," he finally replied. "Try not to overdo it, and make sure you at least get something to eat."

Robert gave him a short nod and turned to leave.

"Maybe we can hang out on our next day off," Keith suggested. "Overworking yourself isn't going to help anyone."

"…We'll see," was Robert's only response before he vanished in the direction of the office.

 _Keith's naive optimism must have been endearing to me at one point, but now I find it grates on me. He doesn't seem to understand that sometimes, the big picture is more important. If putting a few people at risk ensures the world is kept safe, isn't that better than letting the entire world fall into danger? Trying to save individuals rather than the world is what destroyed it the first time around._

* * *

 **June 2010**

 _I honestly can't believe Keith sometimes! Where does he get off calling_ _ **me**_ _reckless when he goes around throwing himself into enemy fire without any regard for his life?!_

"What the hell were you thinking?" Keith shouted, stunned fury burning in his bright blue eyes.

"You're one to talk! Why would you even suggest offering yourself up as a hostage in the first place?" Robert's hands were clenched tightly into fists, face red with anger.

"There was a KID in danger! What else could I do?" Keith retorted.

"Literally anything else! Did you stop to think that if he'd accepted, YOU would probably be bleeding to death right now?" Robert gestured furiously as he spoke.

"That kid almost died! And no thanks to you!" Keith glared at him. "What the hell were you thinking, FIRING at him while he was holding her hostage? (1) Have you taken leave of your senses?!"

"I wouldn't have hit her!" Robert snapped defensively. "I calculated the—"

"To hell with your calculations!" Keith interrupted, disgust colouring his tone. "You can't treat people's lives like an equation! We're supposed to PROTECT people!"

"We're supposed to keep the WORLD safe," Robert argued. "How are we supposed to do that when we roll over every single time some idiot gets caught in the crossfire when we're going after enemies?"

Keith stared at him incredulously. "I don't believe this. Are you actually suggesting we should have let that kid get killed?"

"I'm saying that there's no point in saving one kid if we let some nutjob get away to hurt other people!"

Keith stared at him, as though Robert had grown another head. "I can't believe you. I know you've never been particularly fond of people, but… I can't believe you'd actually suggest SACRIFICING people to complete our missions!"

He took a deep breath, looking as though he was trying to get himself under control.

"Look, let me… Just let me ask you something. Back in Neodyne, when Christy was shoved off the platform, you were right there beside me, running to grab her before she fell. Are you saying… If we were back there, would you have chosen to go after Diaz instead, even if it meant that Christy might have fallen to her death?"

Robert was silent for a moment too long.

Keith's eyes widened. "You're kidding, right?"

"That's not the same thing," Robert hastily replied. "Christy is a trained agent. She knew the risks."

"And that kid today? Did **she** know the risks?" Keith asked coldly.

"Maybe, if someone else had fucking kept her out of the way instead of letting her wander around a deserted park on her own, she WOULDN'T have been in harm's way! Maybe, if people actually learned to fight for their own survival instead of constantly relying on **us** to protect them, we'd be able to take down criminals more effectively instead of having to worry about them being fucking **collateral damage**!"

There was a long silence.

"What the hell's happened to you, Robert?" Keith finally asked. Despite his soft voice, there was no mistaking the revulsion in his tone. "You've changed. You're always working nowadays. Christy and I barely see you off duty anymore. And you've been growing more and more callous about the value of other people's lives. What happened to the partner I remember, the one who would stand in front of bullets to shield civilians without hesitation?"

"I grew out of my absurd idealism," Robert spat. "Your naivety is going to get you killed someday, Keith. And if we're lucky, it will only be you, and not the whole world that gets destroyed in the process."

"…I don't know why you've become so bitter about people, or why you seem convinced that individual lives aren't worth the risk of saving. But I wish you'd talk to us. Or to anyone, really. This isn't healthy." Keith tentatively placed a hand on Robert's shoulder.

Robert shoved him away roughly. "Worry about yourself, partner. Your obsession with saving people will be your downfall."

As he watched Robert storm off down the hallway, Keith felt a chill run down his spine.

 _Why can't Keith understand? Putting the world first might result in a few lives being lost, but at least there will still_ _ **be**_ _a world left to protect when the dust settles. Keith didn't understand that either in the previous timeline, and look where it got him. Stabbed while trying to talk down a rogue agent, with the VSSE blown up for good measure._

* * *

 **July 2010**

 _I've been going about this the wrong way. I thought the best way to try to change things would be to observe how everything's playing out and try to influence it. But now I see that if I want to put a stop to what's going to happen, I need to take a step back from everything…_

"Are you sure about this, Agent Baxter?" There was a hint of concern in the Director's calm voice. "I've heard about the… clashes… you and Agent Martin have been having recently, but the two of you have been a strong pair of partners up till now."

"With respect, sir, this isn't entirely about my working relationship with Agent Martin," Robert replied. "Keith and I have had differing viewpoints on fieldwork for quite a while. I simply feel that I could be more effective working behind the scenes than as a field agent."

"So, you're suggesting…"

"I can serve as a control officer, for regular field agents. We already have intelligence officers to serve as mission control for the Crisis Agents, but… I could plan strategy and tactics, and command squads of normal agents." Robert clasped his hands, trying not to start fidgeting too much.

"Hm. And what of Agent Martin?"

Robert hesitated.

"I haven't heard the details about your arguments, and I'm not going to ask. But would you still be able to work with him if the need should arise?"

There was a moment of silence.

"…Despite our differences in opinion, Keith is a good agent," Robert finally replied. "I may not agree with him, but I can respect that."

"…Very well. I'll let you know. Would you let Agent Martin know I wish to see him at once?"

Robert nodded, then slipped out of the room as the Director dismissed him.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Keith came into the office with a thunderous look on his face.

"What do you mean you're retiring from fieldwork?" He asked incredulously.

"I take it the Director's briefed you then," Robert replied, not bothering to look up from his paperwork.

"This isn't funny! What the hell is wrong with you?" Keith slapped his hand down on top of the pile of papers, causing Robert to look up at him in annoyance.

There was a hint of uncertainty and hurt in Keith's expression, and Robert forced himself to ignore the sliver of regret forming in the back of his mind.

 _I have to do this to keep them safe._

Keith sighed. "Look, if this is about that argument we had the other day…"

"It's not about that," Robert interrupted.

 _Not entirely, anyway._

"My heart just isn't in it anymore. And let's be honest, Keith: You've always been better at fieldwork than me. Strategy and tactics have always been my forte. It's easier to handle things logically from a distance. Getting too close makes it more likely for your judgement to be clouded by emotions." Robert rubbed his eyes tiredly, straightening out the collapsed pile of paperwork.

"So, what's going to happen to you?" He asked, returning his attention to the document in front of him.

"We'll still be sent out together if there are any urgent, world–ending crises we're assigned to handle. Beyond that, the Director is going to have Richard put me through a rigorous series of tests (2)," Keith answered, trying to sound nonchalant. "If I manage to pass, I'll be granted limited autonomy on my missions. Which means I'll get to work on my own, possibly with an intelligence officer for mission control, on most assignments."

Robert barked a laugh. "Just like Bruno, then."

Keith snorted. "That's different and you know it. Giorgio is still relatively new, so he doesn't get assigned to the bigger missions. Besides, he usually has some regular agents assigned to handle groundwork and backup on his missions. This is going to be just me, and whoever they assign as my handler."

"Hoping to get some more alone time with Christy then?" Robert smirked.

Keith gave him an unamused look. "You know perfectly well that Christy's specialty is undercover investigations. And even if it weren't, that would be a conflict of interest. They'll probably assign someone else. Maybe that new officer Christy mentored recently. Kathleen, or Catherine or something."

"You'd better hope Christy doesn't get jealous of you spending a lot of time with a pretty younger woman."

An exasperated sigh was Keith's only response. Robert picked up the next folder, expecting Keith to leave.

Instead, his partner gently placed a hand on Robert's shoulder. "Hey, Robert. Even though we're not working together as much from now on… We're still partners, right?"

Robert swallowed, gripping the file more tightly.

 _The look of surprise on Keith's face when Richard suddenly stabbed him…_

 _Blood pooling under his body as it began to grow cold…_

 _Bright blue eyes that were wide with horror, already beginning to glaze over…_

"Of course we are," he replied gruffly. "Now bugger off, would you? I'm trying to get some work done here."

Already looking back down at his file, Robert missed the look of uncertainty on Keith's face before his partner finally left the room.

 _As a Crisis Agent, they'll keep expecting me to try to save people. As a control officer in charge of tactics and strategy, I can afford to be pragmatic. The field agents might make different judgement calls on their own, but I can at least plan for success and try to make sure our missions are carried out efficiently._

 _Perhaps, if I remain behind the scenes, I will be able to manipulate the situation when the Terror Bite incident occurs. If I influence the players involved in just the right way, this entire chain of tragedies can be averted._

* * *

 **October 2010**

 _Keith appears to have settled into his new role. Christy's student, Catherine Ricci, was assigned to work with him as mission control on his assignments. She seems like a reasonable sort; perhaps she'll be able to rein in his need to play the hero._

 _Serving as a control officer has been quite useful. While the VSSE's track record for regular missions has been decent thus far, agents tend to focus too much on the short–term rather than the big picture. While it is tempting to prioritise taking down criminals quickly to spare those who might be in danger, hanging back and observing can lead to uncovering something much larger. The regular agents may be uneasy about their orders, but there is no denying that playing the long game has been getting results._

 _Thus far, the Director has not raised any objections about my methods, and the whispers of regular agents are easy to ignore. I may not be able to change the other Crisis Agents' minds about the need for pragmatism, but I can at least make a difference from behind the scenes._

* * *

 **March 2011**

 _Agent Bernard has finally joined the VSSE. I must admit, it is rather amusing watching his attempts at befriending Bruno. That Bruno seems entirely disinterested in Bernard's overtures does not seem to deter the latter in the slightest._

 _It is strange to think that someone so opposed to caring about others would grow to care for his future partner so deeply that Bernard's death basically kickstarted the destruction of the VSSE._

 _By all accounts, Bernard's death during the Terror Bite incident was a freak accident not triggered by any mistake on his part. I cannot quite fathom how best to ensure his death does not occur in this timeline. It is possible, I suppose, that things might not turn out exactly as they did the first time, and his death might be prevented by chance. But leaving the future to chance would be the height of foolishness._

 _Perhaps it would be wiser to prevent Bruno's attachment to Bernard from forming in the first place. After all, even if Bernard's death is prevented, there is no guarantee that he will not get himself killed on a different mission, especially given his reckless tendencies. If that happens, Bruno will likely fall into madness again, which could prove problematic._

 _However, short of removing Bernard from the equation entirely, I doubt it would be possible to convince him to stay away from Bruno. The kid is nothing if not stubborn._

 _Perhaps, if something were to happen during the Terror Bite incident to make Bruno and Bernard more paranoid, they might be more cautious during the final confrontation and manage to avoid Bernard's death, sparing the world from its destruction a second time._

* * *

 **July 2011**

 _Loath as I am to admit it, I have committed the crime of not seeing the bigger picture as well. I have been a fool. I thought that I could work within the system to fix things, but I was wrong. Yesterday's mission made that blindingly obvious._

The room was silent, but the air was charged with tension as Keith and Robert glared at each other.

The VSSE had been sending agents undercover to infiltrate a smuggling ring. With the information the undercover agents had already gathered, the VSSE was preparing to move in and take down the ringleaders.

Keith had been assigned to lead the mission, with intelligence officer Catherine Ricci providing air support. Since Robert had been coordinating the efforts of the field agents involved in conducting reconnaissance, he had been brought in to work with Keith, having the advantage of already being familiar with the details about the smuggling ring.

At first, it had seemed as though things were going well. With Keith's skilful driving and Robert firing at enemies, they managed to take out most of the enemy reinforcements.

However, the ringleader's van had remained frustratingly out of reach as they attempted to pursue it.

Robert had attempted to fire at the leader within the van, but with the distance involved and the speed of both the van and their own sedan, it proved next to impossible.

Seeing the van approaching a nearby junction and about to disappear into the traffic, Robert immediately attempted to shoot out its wheels and force it to come crashing to a stop…

At which point Keith had swerved sharply, causing Robert's shot to go wild and the van to escape.

A heated shouting match had ensued. At length, Catherine managed to get their attention, and they had returned to VSSE Headquarters to report back to the Director, still furious at each other.

"Officer Ricci has given me a summary of what happened earlier," the Director said coldly, fixing both agents with a look. "I'd like to hear your explanations for this. Agent Baxter?"

"Yes sir. After we confirmed sighting of the target, Agent Martin and I gave pursuit of the target's van while subduing his reinforcements. The van was about to get away from us, so I attempted to shoot out its tires. For **some** reason, Martin decided the best thing to do would be to swerve and cause my shot to miss. The van managed to get away," Robert explained, still glaring at Keith.

"Agent Martin? What do you have to say for yourself?"

"What **Agent Baxter** failed to mention was that the van was passing through a crowded junction at that moment. If it had crashed, we might have caused a pileup and killed or at least injured a lot of other commuters," Keith spat, glaring right back at Robert.

"Four months of work, and you blew it! The target got away, and who knows if we'll get another chance to capture him!" Robert shouted.

"You were going to endanger a whole bunch of bystanders just to take down a criminal organisation!"

"And how many people are going to be in danger NOW with the ringleader still running free?!"

"Enough!" The Director snapped, and both agents fell silent.

"Having heard what both of you have to say… Agent Martin, you made the right call here."

"What?! Sir, you can't be serious!" Robert said in disbelief.

"While it's unfortunate that the ringleader escaped, we have enough intel on the smuggling ring to begin taking down their operation. It may take a bit more work, but we can still bring him to justice. On the other hand, any preventable loss of civilian life is unacceptable. We are here to protect people, Agent Baxter. If we employed the same disregard for life as the criminals we hunt, we would be as bad as them," the Director replied sternly.

He paused, and his tone softened slightly. "Agent Baxter, I understand your frustration at the ringleader's escape, especially after the months of work you've been putting into this. But I think you're too close to the situation right now."

"…Excuse me?"

"Don't think I haven't noticed the way you've been running field operations. I've given you some leeway to do as you see fit up till now, as you've clearly been getting results. But I think you need to step back for a while and clear your head. At the moment, your judgement is compromised, and I'm afraid you're a liability to others."

Robert stood motionless for a long moment, hands clenched tightly into fists.

"…As you wish, sir," he finally replied in a flat voice, turning to leave.

"Agent Baxter."

Robert paused, but didn't turn around.

"This is not meant to be a punishment. You've been a good agent until now. Take some time off, away from missions. When you're in a better frame of mind, you can get back to work."

"…Yes sir."

He left the room without looking back.

Behind him, there was a hint of worry in Keith's furious blue eyes.

"Agent Martin, do you have any idea what brought this on?"

Keith sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm afraid not, sir. Agent Baxter has been getting… more reckless recently, I'm afraid. Our difference in opinion over this sort of judgement calls had been getting worse over the past few months before Robert partially retired from fieldwork. Maybe he's burned out or something, but I honestly don't know when it started or why."

There was silence as the Director appeared to consider Keith's words.

"Sir, if I may… What's going to happen to Robert?" Keith asked hesitantly.

"Agent Baxter has served the VSSE faithfully for years. Despite his current status, I have no intention of simply casting him out. That said, if he continues down this path, I might have no choice but to demote him to a role with less involvement in fieldwork," the Director replied, clasping his hands together. Despite the matter–of–fact tone he adopted, there was a hint of regret in his voice.

As Keith left the room, his thoughts kept coming back to one burning question:

 _Robert, what happened to you?_

 _I see the truth now: The VSSE **IS** the problem. This world is sick, and the only way to cure it is to purge it of weakness. Those who are too weak to fight must be granted the mercy of oblivion, to stop them from further tainting this world. The VSSE's need to play the hero and try to save everyone is going to doom the world. They will never understand, and so they must be destroyed._

 _As much as I wish I could, I cannot accomplish this on my own. I will need a network of contacts if this is going to work. Fortunately, spending time hunting fugitives of justice tends to give one an advantage when trying to recruit like–minded allies to take down a flawed champion of justice._

 _Until then, I will play my part. Let them think I have seen the error of my ways. And when everything comes to fruition, they will see the light at last._

* * *

Over the next few weeks of his mandated leave, Robert left VSSE Headquarters, saying he needed some space to sort out his thoughts. Nobody was quite sure where he went, but when he returned, he seemed to be much more stable and less agitated than he had been when he left.

Upon passing the VSSE's psychological tests and being deemed fit for duty, Robert was tentatively reinstated and put in command of smaller assignments first on a probationary basis. The dogmatic obsession and recklessness that had previously gripped him no longer seemed to drive his decisions, and missions under his tactical command began to go more smoothly.

However, whatever had remained of Keith and Robert's friendship seemed to have fallen apart. While the agents were no longer being actively hostile towards each other, they had stopped speaking entirely, aside from the occasional work–related conversation if Keith found himself being sent on missions that Robert's men were also working on.

Christy, as one of the few people who still spoke to Robert outside of work, found herself caught in the middle of a cold war between her boyfriend and his ex–partner, who she still considered a friend despite recent events.

Perhaps it might have been easier if she had followed Keith's lead and stopped fraternising with Robert entirely. But Christy felt that doing so would have caused Robert to be completely isolated, which probably wouldn't have been particularly good for his emotional stability.

After a few weeks of this balancing act, Keith finally brought up the subject and told Christy honestly that he had no issues with her hanging out with Robert, as long as he wasn't required to join them. Robert, for his part, never mentioned Keith in conversation with Christy.

And so, an uneasy equilibrium was achieved, slowly becoming the new status quo.

* * *

 **April 2012**

 _My efforts in laying the groundwork to purge this world of its sickness have not been without fruit. Although it is far from complete, I have begun to amass a network of contacts to set my plans in motion when the time comes. And I believe I have discovered the weapon I need to separate the wheat from the chaff._

 _I recall that in my original universe, Keith and I were assigned to handle a mission dealing with a… Zombie Drug, for lack of a better name. The drug was said to negate all fear and pain. This enabled it to grant the user a form of super–strength by allowing the user to act without being hindered by their pain threshold. Of course, the person's body still takes damage from undertaking such actions. But until their body is too badly damaged to respond, the person will not stop moving, because their brain is not telling them that they are hurt._

 _We were ordered to prevent it from falling into enemy hands at all costs. While we attempted to defend the drug at first, we soon found that destroying it was the only viable course of action to prevent its theft._

 _A drug like this might be a valuable asset for weeding out the weak. Those who are unable to survive the damage inflicted upon them under the influence of the drug, or those who are unable to fight back against these drugged people, will be the first to go. Only those who fight to survive at all costs will be left standing. And so, the world will be populated by only the strongest._

 _Of course, given the circumstances, I am not going to be involved in the mission this time round. However, it appears that my dear partner is being assigned to handle it again…_

"Robert." Robert looked up to see Officer Catherine Ricci standing at the entrance to the Crisis Agent Division office, holding a thin folder.

"Can I help you?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Is Keith around at the moment? I'm supposed to pass him this mission brief," she explained, gesturing with the folder.

"He's gone out for lunch with Christy. Just leave it here, I'll see that he gets it when he returns," Robert replied.

Catherine handed him the file. "Don't forget about it," she warned. "This is important."

Robert waited until she had left before flipping through the file. A few key phrases immediately jumped out at him: "Negates fear and pain", "Extremely dangerous" and "In high demand in the black market".

 _There we go. Jackpot._

Working quickly, Robert typed out an exact copy of the file on his computer, with one key difference: Instead of being ordered to "prevent the drug from falling into enemy hands at all costs", the mission brief now ordered Keith to "protect the drug at all costs". (3)

Robert read through the altered document a few times before nodding in satisfaction. While the difference seemed minor, the implications it held were rather more important. The original mission parameters seemed to suggest that destroying the drug was a viable option if the drug were in danger of being stolen. The altered parameters implied that the drug was to be kept safe, and destroying the drug was frowned upon and should only be considered as a last resort.

Printing out a copy of the altered file, he swapped it with the original, slotting the papers neatly into the folder. He then shredded the original file and wiped any trace of the document off his computer.

* * *

Keith came sauntering into the office about an hour later. Without looking up, Robert gestured to the file lying on Keith's desk.

"Catherine dropped this off for you."

Keith gave him a stiff nod of acknowledgement before wordlessly picking up the file.

Robert forced himself to appear as though he were focused on his paperwork and ignoring Keith, but he found himself watching his ex–partner out of the corner of his eye.

Fortunately, Keith didn't seem to notice, too preoccupied with studying the file. After quickly scanning its contents and memorising the information within, he proceeded to follow protocol and shredded the file, destroying it.

At that moment, Robert realised his hands had been clenched tightly around the document in front of him and forced himself to let go, leaving the paper somewhat crinkled.

As Robert refocused on the document, he heard Keith's retreating footsteps as the latter left the office.

Once he was sure Keith had left, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone — not his regular phone, but an untraceable burn phone — and began typing something.

* * *

Three days later, Keith returned to VSSE Headquarters.

As soon as Robert saw him, the difference between the Keith who had left the office three days ago and the Keith standing before him became startlingly obvious.

Beneath the bruises and other assorted injuries, Keith's already pale complexion was even whiter than usual. He was shaking slightly as he walked into the office, looking both horrified and ashamed.

Robert felt a stab of vindictive pleasure and quickly clamped down on it, keeping his expression neutral and pretending he wasn't paying any attention to Keith.

"Robert." There was a slight tremor in his quiet voice.

It was the first time in months that Keith had voluntarily said anything to him.

"What is it?" Robert asked, feigning disinterest and not bothering to look at Keith.

"Is…" Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Keith swallow, clenching his fists slightly. "Is the Director around? I… I need to report to him."

Slowly, Robert turned to look at him. Keith looked uncertain and terrified, almost like a kid being sent to the Principal's office.

Robert immediately knew that it was probably this fear that had Keith coming into the office first, instead of going straight to see the Director like he was supposed to. He was afraid of going to face the Director alone.

 _How the mighty have fallen. Can you get any more pathetic, Martin?_

Instead of giving voice to the disdainful thoughts running through his mind, Robert calmly placed the document he was holding back on his desk.

"I think he's in his office," he finally replied. "Want me to walk you over?"

Keith didn't reply, but simply followed Robert out of the room.

"What happened?" Robert asked, hoping that he sounded curious rather than gleeful.

Keith just shook his head, lips pressed into a thin line.

They walked in silence for a few minutes before Keith finally spoke.

"The VSSE sent me to guard a drug," he said in a soft, haunted voice. "It was supposed to be just a simple assignment. No need for mission control on this one. The site was attacked. I thought I could hold them off at first, but… There was… They just kept coming. There were so many… I couldn't stop them. I tried to destroy the drug, even though my orders were to protect it, because at least it was better than letting it get stolen… But it was too late. They stole it and got away before I could…"

Keith's shaking grew worse and he fell silent, clenching his fists tightly as he avoided Robert's gaze.

They walked the rest of the way in silence.

Upon reaching the Director's office, Robert knocked on the door. "Sir, Agent Martin has returned."

"Send him in."

Without looking at Robert, Keith entered the room, looking like a man walking to his execution.

The door swung shut.

* * *

Keith finally returned to the office a few hours later, white and silent. Despite having presumably cleaned himself up at the infirmary, he looked even more exhausted and broken than before. As though in a daze, he sat down at his desk, staring at nothing in particular.

Instead of looking at Keith, Robert continued working on his own pile of paperwork and waited.

"I've been suspended for two weeks. After that, I'll be on probation," Keith finally said in a hoarse voice.

Robert gave him a sideways glance. "For how long?"

"…Indefinitely."

At that, Robert raised an eyebrow.

 _Seems like the VSSE REALLY didn't want this drug getting out._

"I'll mostly be stuck with surveillance assignments from now on," Keith continued, barely seeming to notice Robert's lack of response. "And if I am sent on combat missions, it will be alongside regular field agents."

"I see."

Keith remained motionless for several long minutes.

"I should have done something earlier. I could have… I wish I'd…" His voice cracked, and there was a suspicious wetness to his eyes.

Slowly, Robert reached out and placed a hand on his ex–partner's shoulder. Keith tensed up but didn't push him away.

"This probably doesn't mean much, coming from me, but I'm sorry it happened," Robert said softly.

It was a calculated move, of course; comfort the guilt–ridden agent, and make himself seem more "human".

Robert was surprised to find that a small part of him actually meant it.

 _What the hell are you thinking? Do you want to be another pathetic weakling like him?_

Keith buried his face in his hands, letting out a muffled sobbing sound. Robert averted his gaze, allowing Keith some space to regain his composure.

"You can't begin to imagine… Three days. There was no end to… I held out as long as I could… I could barely sleep, or rest. And they still kept coming, fresh and alert, while I was on the verge of collapsing. They jammed the signals in and out of the place, so I couldn't even call for backup. We don't know who they were. There were so many of them…" (4)

Robert remained silent, and after a few minutes Keith's trembling subsided. Roughly scrubbing a hand across his face, he let out a shaky breath.

Robert released his grip on Keith's shoulder and turned to sit back down at his own desk.

"Robert… thank you." The words were soft, but unmistakeable.

Robert gave Keith a questioning look.

"I know things haven't been good between us for a while, but… knowing that you still have my back… It means a lot to me."

 _Are you serious?_

"Careful, Martin." Robert couldn't quite keep a hint of bitterness out of his smirk. "Someone might think you actually care."

Keith shook his head. "I was angry, and I still don't understand, but I never stopped caring. We may not work together anymore, but you're still my partner, even after everything."

 _Oh, this is rich! He's even more of a fool than I thought._

Without responding, Robert returned to his own desk, deliberately ignoring the small part of him which almost felt touched at the sentiment.

 _My contacts have safely spirited the drug away as ordered. While it might have been easier to simply order them to kill Keith, the VSSE would probably have gotten suspicious. Besides, there is some amusement to be derived from toying with Keith like this and crushing his spirit. Not that this is a particularly difficult task. Keith is even more prone to foolish weakness than I had imagined. To think that even after everything, he still insists on placing his trust in other people!_

 _I admit that I am somewhat unnerved by the small part of me that still harbours some fondness for Keith. But it matters not. I am in control of myself, and whatever lingering weakness my sentimental side might present will not be difficult to overcome. I have no intention of letting myself be tethered by emotional ties. Keith is welcome to be chained down by this weakness that stops him from realising his full potential. I will not make the same mistake._

* * *

 **June 2013**

 _My efforts in monitoring the research corporation responsible for opening the portal have paid off. Though they have not been making any major waves until now, it appears that the portal has finally been built._

 _Admittedly, it is tempting to try to use the portal again and start afresh in a new universe, without the mistakes I made in this one. But this mess was my doing. I made a mistake in trying to fix this world the wrong way, and it would be unconscionable for me to simply abandon it without trying to clean up my mess._

 _Nonetheless, the portal might prove to be a valuable asset in the future. Although it is not a priority at the moment, perhaps I should look into having my own forces seize the island laboratory at some point._

* * *

 **July 2013**

 _The date of the Terror Bite incident is rapidly approaching. While it is tempting to let events play out the way they did last time and have Agents Bruno and Bernard easily taken out of the equation, this course of action will likely result in Agent Miller going rogue again. If that happens, my own plans will be a lot more difficult to pull off. Agent Miller is a formidable opponent, after all._

 _I have decided to give Agents Bruno and Bernard a chance to save themselves. VSSE agents usually arrive undetected at the start of their missions. (5) If Bruno and Bernard were to find themselves ambushed by the enemy as soon as they arrive, they might become more paranoid, and their caution might prevent Bernard's death during the mission. Conversely, if they are weak enough to be taken out by an ambush, then they deserve to get killed anyway. Should that happen, I will simply have to find some other way to take out Agent Miller before he can ruin everything._

 _Perhaps it is some lingering sentiment that I still have for them, but I admit that part of me wishes to let them face death with dignity instead of being destroyed by a freak accident. They will get their chance to live. And when my plan is finally set in motion, they will go down fighting like the heroes they aspire to be. That will be my mercy to them._

* * *

 **Notes:**

1\. If you're wondering why Robert wasn't disciplined for this, let me put it this way: Have YOU ever played a Time Crisis game without making a couple of risky shots and possibly getting points deducted for accidentally shooting your partner/allied NPCs? :P

Let's just say that Robert would have been in pretty big trouble if he'd actually hit the girl instead of the man holding her hostage. But since he didn't, and he's a senior agent with a decent track record, he's allowed some room to make judgement calls like this. The problem, of course, as Keith points out, is that Robert's judgement calls have been increasingly becoming riskier and more likely to result in collateral damage.

2\. This is a reference to the Crisis Missions in the console port of TC2. If I'm not wrong Keith was the playable character in that mode (since he's the one who appears in the cutscene/congratulations screen at the end), with a fight against Richard Miller as the last challenge.

3\. The dialogue for TC5 about the Zombie Drug has Robert say the VSSE knew about its effects and that's why he sent Keith on that mission three years ago to protect it. While this could imply that the mission was entirely off the books, I somehow can't see Keith getting sent on a mission the VSSE knew entirely nothing about, without someone finding out. I mean, as soon as he mentioned it to anyone else, they would have asked him what he was talking about, and then the whole thing would unravel.

Instead, my interpretation is that Robert messed with Keith's orders in a subtle but important way so that Keith would end up failing the mission by attempting to follow the wrong orders. In that sense, Robert technically **did** send Keith on that mission.

4\. Keith might seem overly emotional here, but keep in mind that he's just messed up spectacularly on what was supposed to have been a simple assignment. Not to mention, he's just spent three days holding out against a seemingly endless horde of enemies on his own, with almost no sleep and no way to call for backup. You'd probably be rather overwrought too if it were you.

5\. Look at TC1, TC2 and TC3. The **agents** are the ones ambushing the enemies there. Even in TC3, where Alan and Wesley are caught by Zagorias Federation troops at the start, the agents are the ones in control, since them getting "caught" is actually part of the plan. TC4 is the only one where the enemies are already lying in wait when Giorgio and Evan arrive.


End file.
